Chương 4
Ortiz must have seen something in my face because she gave me a moment before continuing.
“We checked your residence.”
“And?”
“No one was there.”
“What about Preston’s phone?”
“Off.”
“Vanessa?”
“Also off.”
The nurse returned Eli to the bassinet and quietly left the room.
Ortiz folded her hands.
“Mr. Whitaker told us about the insurance policy.”
“Did he tell you Preston already thinks I’m dead?”
“He did.”
“And I don’t want that corrected.”
Ortiz studied me.
“That is not entirely your decision.”
Heat rose under my hospital gown.
“He tried to murder me.”
“I understand.”
“No, you understand it as a sentence in your notebook.”
Her eyes hardened slightly.
I regretted the words before she answered.
“My sister was shot by her boyfriend when I was twenty-three.”
The room went silent.
Ortiz did not look emotional.
That made it worse.
“She survived,” Ortiz added.
Then she leaned forward.
“So when I tell you I understand that fear can make secrecy feel like control, I’m not speaking academically.”
I looked down at my hands.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She tapped one finger against her notebook.
“But hear me anyway.”
I did.
“If Preston learns you survived through police movement, hospital staff, social media, family, insurance employees, or one careless neighbor, then whatever advantage you think you have disappears.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You asked a nurse about seeing his messages.”
“That is my phone.”
“And now it is evidence.”
That irritated me.
Everything apparently belonged to someone else now.
My clothes belonged to evidence.
My phone belonged to evidence.
My marriage belonged to detectives.
Even my body seemed to belong to machines.
“What do you need from me?”
“For now, nothing heroic.”
“I’m not planning anything heroic.”
Ortiz gave me a look.
“People say that right before they do something heroic and stupid.”
“I just had abdominal surgery.”
“I’ve met determined people with worse.”
“You’re charming.”
“That’s what my ex-wife says.”
Her tone was so dry that I could not tell whether she was joking.
A moment later, the door opened again.
Richard came in without knocking.
His expression told me something had happened.
Ortiz stood.
“What is it?”
Richard looked at me, not her.
“My general counsel just called.”
My stomach tightened despite the medication.
“About the claim?”
“About your policy records.”
Ortiz closed her notebook.
“What changed?”
Richard stepped closer.
“The beneficiary designation was altered four months ago.”
I frowned.
“Preston has always been the beneficiary.”
“He still is.”
“Then what changed?”
“A contingent beneficiary was added.”
I waited.
Richard did not speak.
“Who?”
“Vanessa Mercer.”
The name seemed to float between us.
“That’s impossible.”
Richard shook his head.
“The change bears your electronic signature.”
“I never signed that.”
Ortiz was already taking notes.
“When was it submitted?”
“April fourteenth.”
I searched my memory.
April fourteenth had been a Monday.
I had spent most of that morning at my obstetrician’s office because Eli had failed a movement count and scared ten years off my life.
Preston had stayed home.
“Where was the submission made?”
Richard hesitated.
“Your home IP address.”
Ortiz looked at me.
“Was your husband home that day?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know your passwords?”
“He knew some.”
“Insurance login?”
“I don’t know.”
Richard’s face had gone tight again.
“There’s more.”
I almost laughed from exhaustion.
“Of course there is.”
“The authorization included a security question.”
“What question?”
“Your mother’s maiden name.”
I looked at him.
Preston knew that.
Everyone knew that.
It was printed in our wedding program because my mother had insisted on using both surnames.
“That proves nothing.”
“No,” Richard said.
“It proves the change was made using information your husband could easily possess.”
Ortiz leaned against the counter.
“Why add Vanessa?”
The answer arrived before I wanted it.
“If Preston died before I did.”
Nobody spoke.
I pictured the unidentified man in the ravine.
Late thirties or early forties.
Half a mile from where they pushed me.
The relief I had felt earlier curdled into something colder.
“Detective.”
Ortiz looked at me.
“What time was the body found?”
“Approximately forty minutes ago.”
“Could it be Preston?”
“We’re working on identification.”
“Could Vanessa have pushed him?”
Richard glanced sharply toward me.
Ortiz did not.
“That is one possibility among many.”
“Then she could be the beneficiary.”
“If both you and your husband were declared dead and the policy terms supported payment to her, theoretically, yes.”
Richard cut in.
“Not without scrutiny.”
Ortiz looked at him.
“But she might believe otherwise.”
He said nothing.
I remembered Vanessa standing near the SUV with her hands over her mouth.
You said this would be quick.
Not we.
You.
At the time, I had heard fear in her voice.
Now I heard accusation.
“You need to find her.”
“We are.”
“My house has a doorbell camera.”
Ortiz shook her head.
“Your husband disconnected it yesterday morning.”
I stared at her.
That was another clue I should have noticed.
The app had sent me an offline notification while we were packing.
Preston had blamed the router.
I had been trying to zip a suitcase over maternity jeans I was never going to wear.
“My neighbor,” I said.
Ortiz waited.
“Mrs. Beckman across the street.”
“What about her?”
“She watches everything.”
“People usually say that like it’s a complaint.”
“It is a complaint.”
I shifted carefully against the pillows.
“She has three cameras because someone stole a ceramic goose from her porch two years ago.”
Ortiz’s mouth twitched.
“Did she ever recover the goose?”
“She bought four more.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“She might have footage of Preston leaving or coming back.”
Ortiz wrote down the name.
“I’ll send someone.”
Richard’s phone rang.
He checked the screen and stepped toward the window.
I watched him answer.
He listened without speaking.
Then his eyes lifted to mine.
“What?”
He ended the call.
“That was hospital security.”
Ortiz straightened.
Richard’s voice lowered.
May you like
“A woman arrived downstairs twenty minutes ago asking whether an unidentified pregnant accident victim had been admitted.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
