Chapter 6 - What Leo Could Not Say)
David did not confront Valerie.
Not that day.
Sarah's warning remained in his head.
Do not tell her first.
He hated the idea of pretending.
He hated the idea even more that pretending might be necessary.
He took Leo upstairs.
Valerie followed.
"Why are you being strange?"
"I'm tired."
"You're always tired."
David entered the nursery.
The photograph of Emily stood beside the rocking chair.
He looked at it.
He had noticed before that it sometimes disappeared into a drawer.
He had assumed Sarah moved it while cleaning.
Now he wondered.
Valerie saw him looking.
"You know, someday that picture should probably go."
David turned.
"Why?"
She shrugged.
"Because I'm your wife."
"And she was Leo's mother."
Valerie's lips tightened.
"Biologically, I suppose."
David stared at her.
"That's a strange thing to say."
"What?"
"Nothing."
He placed Leo in the crib.
The baby immediately reached toward him.
David lifted him again.
Valerie sighed.
"You're making him dependent."
"He's ten months old."
"He manipulates everyone."
David almost laughed.
Then he realized she was serious.
"A baby doesn't manipulate adults."
"You'd be surprised."
David looked at his son.
Leo's fingers were wrapped around his thumb.
"Maybe."
Valerie kissed David's cheek.
"I'm going shopping."
"Okay."
She left.
David waited until he heard the front door close.
Then he called the security company.
He identified himself.
The representative verified several personal details.
"I need administrator access logs from the last thirty days."
"Certainly, Mr. Mercer."
"Can those logs be altered by a user?"
"No."
David stood completely still.
"Even an administrator?"
"They can change settings, but system access records remain on our server."
David looked toward the door.
"Send them directly to my work email."
"Of course."
Ten minutes later, the file arrived.
David opened it.
There were dozens of routine logins.
Then he found the nursery camera.
Disabled.
Tuesday, 7:18 PM.
Administrator account.
Device name.
VALERIE IPHONE.
David sat down.
He kept reading.
The camera had been disabled six times in three weeks.
Always when he was away.
Another device appeared twice.
UNKNOWN MOBILE DEVICE.
David downloaded the report.
He sent a copy to his attorney, Daniel Reed, with one sentence.
Call me privately.
Then he heard a small sound.
Clink.
Leo stiffened.
David looked around.
The sound came from his own belt buckle touching the wooden crib rail.
Leo began crying.
David froze.
He touched the buckle to the rail again.
Clink.
Leo screamed.
David's blood ran cold.
He lifted his son.
"It's okay."
Leo clung to him.
David stared at the nursery door.
Sarah had told the truth.
At least about this.
He took Leo downstairs.
Twenty minutes later, his attorney called.
"David."
"I need this conversation confidential."
"It is."
David explained everything.
Daniel Reed listened without interrupting.
When David finished, the attorney said something David had not expected.
"Call a pediatrician."
"What?"
"Today."
"Leo looks fine."
"That isn't the point."
David closed his eyes.
Daniel continued.
"If there is any possibility someone has physically harmed your child, you need a medical record independent of everyone in that house."
David swallowed.
"Okay."
"And do not start an investigation yourself if you think evidence is being manipulated."
"Why?"
"Because you could destroy it without realizing."
"What should I do?"
"Document. Preserve. Get Leo examined. And if you believe he's in immediate danger, remove him from the situation."
David looked toward the staircase.
"I understand."
"David."
"Yes?"
"Where is Valerie right now?"
"Shopping."
"Then take the child to the doctor before she returns."
David did.
He told Valerie by text that he was taking Leo for a routine checkup.
The pediatrician examined the baby carefully.
There were no serious injuries.
David felt relief so intense he nearly cried.
Then the doctor asked about two fading marks.
One on Leo's arm.
One around his neck.
"They could be accidental," Dr. Hannah Cole said.
"Could they be from a chain?"
Her eyes lifted.
"Why are you asking me that?"
David told her.
Not everything.
Enough.
Dr. Cole's face became serious.
"If a chain was placed around his neck, even briefly, that is not a minor concern."
David looked at Leo.
The baby was playing with a paper sheet on the examination table.
"What happens now?"
"I document what I see."
"Do you report it?"
"If I reasonably suspect abuse, yes."
David inhaled.
"I think someone in my house may be hurting him."
The doctor's expression changed.
"Then I need you to tell me exactly why."
David did.
When he finished, Dr. Cole left the room to make a call.
David sat beside Leo.
He felt ashamed.
Not because he had hurt his son.
Because he had lived in the same house and had not seen the fear growing around him.
His phone vibrated.
Valerie.
Where are you?
Then another.
Bring Leo home.
Then a third.
NOW.
David stared at the screen.
He did not reply.
Instead, he called Sarah.
She answered immediately.
"Is Leo okay?"
"Physically, yes."
Sarah exhaled.
David said, "I checked the security logs."
Silence.
"You were right."
Sarah closed her eyes.
"About the camera?"
"Yes."
David swallowed.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize to me."
He looked at Leo.
"I know."
Sarah hesitated.
"There's something else."
David straightened.
"What?"
"I left an old phone in my cleaning cabinet."
"Why?"
"I was using it as a backup recorder."
David's heart accelerated.
"Is it still there?"
"I think so."
"Can Valerie find it?"
"I don't know."
David stood.
"What's on it?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean?"
"It was recording when you asked me to leave."
David remembered the bracelet confrontation.
"How long does the battery last?"
"Maybe eight hours."
David looked at the clock.
If the phone had continued recording, it might have captured what happened after Sarah left.
Including Valerie alone in the house.
Including anything she said when she believed nobody was listening.
Sarah whispered, "David."
"What?"
"Do not let her find that phone."
He looked at Leo.
Then at the messages filling his screen.
May you like
For the first time, he understood that the Mercer mansion was no longer simply his home.
It was a crime scene that did not yet know it was one.
