Chapter 2 - THE TOXICOLOGY REPORT
David refused to sit.
He stood in the center of my bedroom, staring at Samuel as though my lawyer had personally betrayed him.
"This is ridiculous."
Detective Carter remained calm.
"We'll decide that."
David pointed toward me.
"She's terminally ill."
Carter looked at me.
Then back at David.
"That's what you've been telling everyone."
Silence.
Jessica slowly entered the room.
"I don't understand."
The second detective turned toward her.
"You will."
David immediately stepped between Jessica and the officers.
"She has nothing to do with this."
Jessica looked at him.
"David..."
He shook his head.
"Don't say anything."
That sentence told Detective Carter more than David realized.
The detective pulled a chair forward.
"Sit."
David finally obeyed.
Samuel walked toward my bed.
He looked at the eye-tracking computer.
"Can she communicate?"
Carter asked.
Samuel nodded.
"Yes."
David stared at him.
"What?"
Samuel turned toward him.
"She has been communicating with me for weeks."
David's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Jessica looked at me.
"You knew?"
I slowly moved my eyes toward her.
The computer activated.
A message appeared.
Yes.
Jessica stepped backward.
Her face turned pale.
"You've been awake?"
Another message.
I heard everything.
David stood suddenly.
"This is impossible."
Carter grabbed his shoulder.
"Sit down."
David obeyed.
Samuel opened the folder.
Inside was the laboratory report.
"The substance found in Mrs. Whitmore's samples is a toxic compound capable of producing neurological symptoms consistent with what doctors observed."
Carter continued.
"Progressive weakness. Tremors. Visual disturbance. Cognitive impairment."
David looked at me.
"That's what her illness was."
Samuel shook his head.
"No."
He placed another document on the table.
"That's what you wanted everyone to believe."
Jessica covered her mouth.
David's expression changed.
"You don't have proof."
Samuel smiled slightly.
"We have plenty."
He opened a laptop.
A video appeared.
It showed our kitchen.
David was standing beside the counter.
He looked around.
Then he opened a cabinet.
Removed a small container.
And poured something into my food.
Jessica gasped.
David stood motionless.
The recording continued.
David stirred the food.
Then placed the bowl on a tray.
Another camera showed him carrying it upstairs.
Another showed him entering my room.
Another showed him smiling as he watched me eat.
Carter stopped the video.
"How long?"
David didn't answer.
"How long have you been poisoning your wife?"
David shook his head.
"I never..."
Carter interrupted.
"We have footage from twenty-seven separate occasions."
David looked at Jessica.
She looked back at him.
"You told me she was dying."
"I didn't know about this."
"You said the doctors diagnosed her."
"They did."
Jessica began crying.
David snapped.
"Stop crying!"
She flinched.
I watched carefully.
There it was.
The real David.
Not the gentle husband.
Not the devoted caregiver.
The man beneath the mask.
Carter noticed it too.
"Jessica, when did you start seeing David?"
She hesitated.
David stared at her.
"Don't."
She looked frightened.
Then she said,
"Eight months ago."
Carter asked,
"And when did he tell you his wife would die?"
"Almost immediately."
David's eyes widened.
Jessica continued.
"He told me they were already separated emotionally."
I almost laughed.
We had shared the same bedroom.
The same dinners.
The same vacations.
The same house.
And he had already written me out of his life.
Carter looked at Jessica.
"What else did he tell you?"
She swallowed.
"He said the house would be mine."
David closed his eyes.
"And the company."
Carter looked at her.
"He promised you the company?"
Jessica nodded.
"He said everything would be transferred after she died."
Samuel leaned forward.
"Interesting."
David glared at him.
"What's interesting?"
"The company isn't yours."
David froze.
Samuel smiled.
"Neither is the house."
He opened another file.
"And neither is the fortune."
David stared at the documents.
"You can't do that."
"I don't have to."
Samuel turned toward me.
"She already did."
David's face drained of color.
Then the front door slammed downstairs.
Another officer entered.
"Detective Carter."
Carter stood.
"What is it?"
"We found something in the garage."
"What?"
The officer looked at David.
"A locked case."
David's expression changed instantly.
Carter noticed.
"Open it."
The officer nodded.
A minute later, they returned carrying a black metal case.
David whispered,
"No."
I watched him.
For months, he had believed he was the hunter.
Now he was finally realizing he had left tracks.
Carter placed the case on the bed.
"What is inside?"
David said nothing.
The detective opened it.
Inside were prescription bottles.
Bank statements.
A burner phone.
And photographs.
Dozens of photographs.
Photographs of me.
Sleeping.
Eating.
Walking.
Sitting.
Getting sick.
Watching television.
David had documented everything.
Carter picked up one photograph.
On the back was a handwritten date.
And beneath it:
Expected decline.
Jessica started sobbing.
I stared at David.
He stared back.
Then his phone rang.
Everyone looked at it.
The caller ID showed one word.
MOTHER.
David didn't answer.
The phone stopped.
Then immediately rang again.
Carter looked at him.
"Answer it."
David hesitated.
Carter nodded toward the phone.
"Put it on speaker."
David slowly picked it up.
He answered.
A woman's voice came through.
"David?"
"Mom..."
"Is she dead yet?"
The room went silent.
David closed his eyes.
His mother continued.
"Because if she isn't, we have a very serious problem."
Carter looked at Samuel.
Samuel looked at me.
May you like
And suddenly I understood.
David had not planned this alone.
