Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO CALLED FIRST
By the time Officer Ramirez arrived, Vanessa had already called the police.
According to her, I was a grieving, unstable father who had stormed into the kitchen and frightened everyone. She even had a recording of me yelling. It began with my shouting and ended before Lily spoke.
“That recording is missing everything that happened first,” I said.
Ramirez knelt beside Lily, careful not to touch her bruised wrist. “Can you tell me why you’re upset?”
Lily stared at the floor. “She told me bad things would happen if I talked.”
Ramirez’s expression changed. He photographed the marks and requested a detective. I sent Lily next door to Mrs. Alvarez, who had watched her grow up, while I gave my statement.
Detective Marisol Rios arrived with tired eyes and the kind of voice that made people answer honestly.
“Why would a babysitter threaten a child over a music box?” she asked.
“I wish I knew.”
“Then we start there. Don’t throw anything away. Don’t contact Vanessa.”
After she left, I found the security camera over the kitchen door had been unplugged. The cable was cleanly cut. Vanessa had been preparing for something.
At Mrs. Alvarez’s house, Lily sat wrapped in a blanket beside a cup of cocoa. She wouldn't touch the cup.
“Daddy,” she said, “will they make me live with Vanessa?”
“Absolutely not.” I hated that she needed to ask.
Lily placed the music box in my lap. Its painted ballerina had lost one pink shoe, and the tune always stopped before the last note.
“Mommy said if a bad day ever came, I should show you the place where the music stops.”
I opened the lid. The mechanism played its tired little song, caught, and clicked.
Beneath the brass cylinder was a screw that didn’t match the others. I removed it with my pocketknife. A folded piece of blue paper slid free.
May you like
It held a brass key, a bank name, and four words in Emily’s handwriting.
DO NOT TRUST VANESSA COLE.
