Chapter 9 - The Night They Followed Her
Detective Morris treated Elena Ruiz's statement differently from everything else.
Financial crimes were one thing.
Following a bleeding pregnant woman down a dark road while she tried to reach a hospital was another.
"Why would Curtis follow her?" I asked.
Morris didn't speculate.
Good investigators rarely do.
"We need evidence."
"We have a witness."
"We have a witness who saw a vehicle."
"Registered to him."
"Yes."
"So arrest him for whatever happened that night."
"That's not how it works."
I hated that answer.
I understood it.
Still hated it.
Curtis was already facing serious charges.
Margaret remained free pending investigation.
Paige had begun cooperating fully.
And Gwen was approaching surgery after several chemotherapy cycles showed enough tumor reduction for doctors to consider an operation.
That was the good news.
The bad news was she was weaker than ever.
She lost nearly twelve more pounds.
Her eyebrows thinned.
Her fingertips became numb.
Some mornings she couldn't button her own shirt.
Those mornings hurt the most because Gwen hated being helped.
Not because she was proud.
Because Margaret had spent years teaching her that needing help made her worthless.
One morning, she dropped a coffee mug.
It shattered.
The sound froze both of us.
Gwen immediately crouched.
"I'm sorry."
Then she stopped.
She looked at the broken ceramic.
Then at me.
I remembered the first day.
The shattered plate behind the house.
Her kneeling in dirt.
Margaret shouting from inside.
Gwen slowly stood.
"No."
I didn't understand.
She repeated it.
"No."
Then she left the pieces exactly where they were and sat at the table.
I smiled.
"What?"
She looked at me.
"I'm not picking that up while I'm dizzy."
"Good."
"You can do it."
"Absolutely."
A tiny smile appeared.
That broken mug was one of the best things I'd ever cleaned.
Two days before surgery, Detective Morris called again.
"We found security footage."
"From seven months ago?"
"Not from the street."
My heart accelerated.
"Where?"
"A gas station two blocks from where Gwen collapsed."
The store kept archived footage because it had been involved in an unrelated civil case.
Curtis's truck appeared.
So did Gwen.
Walking.
Bent over.
Holding her abdomen.
The footage wasn't clear enough to show everything.
But it showed Curtis's truck stop.
A man got out.
Approached Gwen.
Then returned to the vehicle.
I sat staring at still frames inside Morris's office.
"What did he say to her?"
Gwen looked confused.
"I don't remember seeing him."
Morris leaned forward.
"You were in distress."
Gwen studied the image.
Then her face changed.
"I remember someone."
My chest tightened.
"What?"
"A man asked if I needed help."
"Did you recognize him?"
"No."
"What did you say?"
"I said I needed the hospital."
Morris asked, "What did he do?"
Gwen closed her eyes.
"He told me there was a clinic around the corner."
"There isn't."
"I know."
"Then?"
"I kept walking."
Her breathing changed.
"He asked where I lived."
I felt rage returning.
"Did he touch you?"
"No."
"Threaten you?"
"No."
"Did he offer a ride?"
Gwen shook her head.
"He just kept saying I should go home."
Morris wrote something down.
That was enough for me.
Curtis wasn't following Gwen to help her.
He was trying to send her back.
Why?
The answer came from Paige.
When shown the footage, she broke down.
"Mom called him."
I stared at her.
"That night?"
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"I heard her."
My voice hardened.
"Say it."
Paige began crying.
"After Gwen left, Mom called Curtis and said, 'She's walking toward the hospital. Stop her from making a scene.'"
The room went silent.
Morris stopped writing.
"Are you certain those were the words?"
Paige nodded.
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell us before?"
"I forgot."
I laughed bitterly.
"You forgot?"
"I was terrified!"
"You forgot a man followed my bleeding wife because Mom told him to?"
Paige looked at me.
"I was seventeen, Daniel. Everything in that house was crazy. Dad had just died months earlier. Mom was drinking. Curtis was always around. I learned not to think about things."
I wanted to stay angry.
Part of me still was.
But children raised inside dysfunction often survive by normalizing what would terrify outsiders.
Paige had become cruel.
She had also been trained.
Both could be true.
Three days later, Gwen went into surgery.
I stood beside her bed at 5:40 in the morning.
She wore a hospital cap.
No hair to tuck underneath.
No jewelry.
No makeup.
She looked beautiful.
Terrified.
But beautiful.
"What if I don't wake up?" she whispered.
"You're waking up."
"You don't know that."
"Then I'm ordering you."
She smiled weakly.
"Army thing?"
"Absolutely."
She reached for my hand.
"Daniel."
"Yeah?"
"If something happens—"
"No."
"Listen."
I didn't want to.
But I did.
"Don't spend your whole life angry."
My throat tightened.
"Easy for you to say."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
"Your mother took years from us."
"Yes."
"Don't give her the rest."
That sentence stayed with me.
The nurse came.
I kissed Gwen.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Then they wheeled her away.
The surgery took six hours.
At hour two, I drank coffee.
At hour three, I stopped tasting it.
At hour four, Paige arrived.
At hour five, Robert Klein called.
"I have news."
"Good or bad?"
"Both."
I closed my eyes.
"Start with bad."
"Margaret filed a civil claim asserting equitable ownership of the disputed estate assets."
I laughed.
"Of course."
"Good news?"
"Her filing contains sworn statements."
"Meaning?"
"She contradicted several things she told investigators."
That was very good news.
Robert continued.
"She also attached records she apparently believed supported her claim."
"What records?"
"Bank documents."
My pulse changed.
"Real?"
"Some."
"What did she accidentally give us?"
"A transfer ledger."
"Showing what?"
"Money from your father's brokerage account moving into Curtis Reed's company."
I smiled for the first time all morning.
"How much?"
"One hundred fifty-seven thousand dollars."
Almost the exact amount Dad had owned.
There it was.
A financial trail.
"What happens now?"
"We seek recovery."
Then the surgery-room doors opened.
A doctor walked toward me.
I hung up.
Everything else disappeared.
"Mr. Hale?"
"Yes."
"I'm Dr. Patel."
"How is she?"
His expression was unreadable.
"We removed the primary tumor."
I exhaled.
"Good."
"We also removed affected lymph nodes."
"Okay."
"There was more disease than the scans suggested."
My stomach dropped.
"How much more?"
He paused.
"We found suspicious tissue near the chest wall."
I stopped breathing.
"Is it cancer?"
"We've sent it to pathology."
"Can you remove it?"
"We removed what was safely accessible."
I sat down.
"So what happens now?"
"More treatment."
"Will she survive?"
Doctors hate that question.
Patients ask anyway.
Dr. Patel sat beside me.
"She has a difficult road."
My eyes burned.
"But?"
"But she is young. She responded to chemotherapy. And today we accomplished what we hoped to accomplish."
I nodded.
"Can I see her?"
"Soon."
Two hours later, Gwen opened her eyes.
Barely.
She looked at me.
"Did I wake up?"
I laughed and cried at the same time.
"Yeah."
"Told you."
"No. I told you."
She smiled.
Then fell asleep again.
That night, I sat beside her hospital bed holding her hand.
My phone buzzed.
Detective Morris.
I ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Then a text.
CALL ME. ARREST WARRANT APPROVED.
I stood and walked into the hallway.
"For Curtis?"
"Already in custody."
My heart pounded.
"Margaret?"
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
"What charges?"
She listed several.
Fraud.
Forgery.
Identity theft.
Financial exploitation.
Conspiracy-related charges.
More could follow.
Then Morris became quiet.
"There's one more development."
"What?"
"Curtis is talking."
I gripped the phone.
"About what?"
"Everything."
A pause.
"And he says the financial scheme wasn't Margaret's idea."
I frowned.
"Whose was it?"
"His."
That didn't surprise me.
Then she added:
"But according to Curtis, Margaret agreed because she believed you were going to cut her off financially once you returned."
I stared through the glass at Gwen.
"So she destroyed Gwen before I came home."
Morris didn't answer.
Then she said:
"Curtis claims there was a plan to have Gwen gone before your return."
My blood went cold.
May you like
"What does gone mean?"
"We're trying to determine that now."
