Chương 10
Laura failed one.
Her own account temporarily locked her out.
She sat at Caroline’s kitchen table and laughed until Caroline came downstairs.
“What?”
Laura turned the laptop around.
“I don’t know my first-grade teacher’s last name.”
“What?”
“It’s a security question.”
Caroline stared at her.
Then she laughed too.
For almost a minute they laughed so hard Laura cried.
The crying continued after the laughter stopped.
Caroline sat beside her.
“I signed things,” Laura said.
“Most married people sign things.”
“I signed everything he put in front of me.”
“You trusted him.”
“I outsourced my whole life.”
“No. You split responsibilities.”
“I didn’t know the debt.”
Caroline said nothing.
“I didn’t know the insurance policy.”
Still nothing.
“I didn’t know my daughter was afraid to tell me things because I’d explain him.”
Caroline reached for her hand.
Laura pulled away.
“Don’t.”
“Okay.”
“I need somebody to tell me when I’m wrong.”
“I can do that.”
“You enjoy it.”
“A little.”
Laura laughed weakly.
That night she went through every shared account she could access.
The numbers revealed another layer.
Daniel had been losing money.
Not extravagantly.
Not dramatically.
A series of private investments had gone bad.
One was a startup owned by a former colleague.
Another involved cryptocurrency purchases Laura had never known about.
The home-equity line had covered some losses.
Then Daniel had borrowed against his retirement account.
The amounts were serious but not catastrophic.
They could have survived them.
That confused Laura more.
Two hundred fifty thousand dollars was significant.
But killing a child for it?
The math was grotesque and inadequate.
When Reyes called the next day, Laura asked directly.
“Do you think the insurance is why?”
“We’re considering it.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“People don’t always make financially rational decisions.”
“No, I mean Daniel isn’t stupid.”
“Smart people make irrational decisions.”
“He would know an autopsy could find drugs.”
“Possibly.”
“He would know life insurance gets investigated.”
“Possibly.”
“So why do it this way?”
Reyes was silent.
Laura leaned forward.
“You don’t think he was trying to kill her.”
“I think intent is still the hardest part.”
That answer lodged inside Laura.
What if Daniel had not been trying to kill Mia?
The idea should have comforted her.
It didn’t.
Because if death was not the goal, then what was?
Mia supplied the first answer accidentally.
They were watching television at Caroline’s when a commercial mentioned standardized testing.
Mia muttered, “Dad would love that.”
Laura looked over.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What would Dad love?”
Mia sighed.
“Testing.”
“What testing?”
“He wanted me tested again.”
“For anxiety?”
“For everything.”
Mia muted the television.
“He kept saying something was wrong with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like neurologically.”
Laura frowned.
“Did he tell you that?”
“All the time.”
“What exactly?”
“That my moods were getting unstable. That I was having memory problems. That I wasn’t acting like myself.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
Laura hesitated.
Mia noticed.
“See?”
“I’m thinking.”
“You’re wondering if he was right.”
“I’m wondering what he observed.”
“Nothing.”
“You were having dizziness.”
“Because he was drugging me.”
“We didn’t know that then.”
“But he did.”
Laura went still.
Mia’s face sharpened.
“He was making symptoms and then telling me the symptoms meant something was wrong with me.”
The television continued silently.
A smiling family ate cereal.
Laura felt the horror of the idea unfold slowly.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he want you to see a doctor?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“A psychiatrist.”
Laura stared at her.
“When?”
“Last month.”
“He told me you asked for therapy.”
“I did ask for therapy.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“I know.”
“What did he want?”
“He kept asking if I’d ever heard voices.”
Laura’s skin prickled.
“What?”
“Or if I forgot things. Or if I ever woke up somewhere and didn’t remember getting there.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him no?”
“Every time.”
“Then why keep asking?”
Mia looked toward the window.
“Because he wanted a different answer.”
The detective listened carefully when Laura called.
This time she did not sound surprised.
“Did you know this already?” Laura asked.
“We found search history.”
“What kind?”
Reyes hesitated.
“Questions about adolescent psychiatric symptoms. Medication side effects. Diagnostic criteria. Involuntary treatment standards.”
Laura stood.
“Involuntary?”
“Searching something doesn’t prove intent.”
“Stop saying that.”
“It’s my job.”
“What was he trying to do?”
“I don’t know yet.”
But a week later, the prosecution obtained emails.
Daniel had contacted a private adolescent psychiatric treatment program in another state.
He described Mia as increasingly unstable.
Possibly abusing medications.
Having episodes of confusion.
Engaging in risky behavior.
He wrote that Laura was “in denial” and might interfere with treatment.
He asked about emergency admission procedures.
The program had replied that voluntary evaluation was usually preferred unless immediate safety concerns justified other intervention.
Daniel asked what documentation would demonstrate a pattern.
Laura read the email twice.
Then a third time.
“He was building a case.”
Reyes nodded.
“For what?”
“We’re still determining that.”
“To send her away?”
“Possibly.”
“Why?”
“We found additional communications.”
“What communications?”
Reyes slid another paper across the table.
Daniel had written to a lawyer.
Not a criminal lawyer.
An estate attorney.
The email concerned Daniel’s mother’s trust.
Mia had inherited money.
Laura knew this.
At least she thought she did.
Daniel’s mother had left college funds for both grandchildren.
Forty thousand each, approximately.
Except Mia’s inheritance was not forty thousand.
It was nearly six hundred thousand dollars.
Laura stared at the number.
“No.”
Reyes waited.
“This is wrong.”
“The trust documents are clear.”
“Evan too?”
“His is significantly smaller.”
“Why?”
“Do you know?”
Laura thought of Daniel’s mother, Evelyn Bennett.
Difficult woman.
Sharp.
Loved Mia in a way that sometimes excluded everyone else.
She had paid for Mia’s music lessons.
Bought her books.
Called her “my little lawyer” because Mia argued everything.
Evan and Evelyn had never been close.
“Why didn’t Daniel tell me?”
Reyes tapped the document.
May you like
“The trust was structured with Daniel as temporary custodian until Mia turned eighteen.”
Laura understood before Reyes explained.
