Chapter 9 - THE ROAD
Lorraine tried to leave.
The officers stopped her.
“I did not hurt that girl!”
Andrew shouted from the kitchen, “Tell them.”
Lorraine turned on him.
“You coward.”
“Tell them what you did.”
“You were there!”
Daniel went pale.
I felt Rachel’s hand touch my arm.
“Claire, do not get in the middle.”
The state police arrived twenty minutes later.
Detective Elena Ruiz took over the room.
She separated everyone.
I gave my statement first.
Daniel gave his.
Then Andrew.
Then Lorraine.
By midnight, I learned what had happened the night Natalie died.
At least, one version.
Natalie confronted Andrew at my cottage.
She demanded her money back.
She threatened to tell me about the affair and the loans.
Marcus arrived because Andrew had called him.
Lorraine arrived because Andrew had called her too.
Andrew claimed he wanted everyone to “calm down.”
Natalie left furious.
Lorraine followed in her SUV.
“Why?” Detective Ruiz asked.
Lorraine cried.
“To talk to her.”
“On a dark road at midnight?”
“I wanted her to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Destroying my son.”
That phrase again.
My son.
As though Andrew were eight years old.
Natalie’s car crashed on Route 364 twenty-three minutes later.
No other vehicle was officially reported.
But Daniel remembered something.
“My sister’s rear bumper was damaged.”
Ruiz looked at him.
“How?”
“The body shop called me after the crash. They said there was blue paint transfer.”
Lorraine’s SUV was dark blue.
She started shaking.
“I never hit her.”
Andrew stared at her.
“You came back with a cracked headlight.”
Lorraine screamed, “From a deer!”
Detective Ruiz said nothing.
That silence was worse than accusation.
Around 2:00 a.m., police left with the lockbox, recorder, flash drive copies, and Lorraine’s SUV information.
Andrew was told not to contact Daniel.
Lorraine was taken elsewhere for further questioning.
Before she left, she looked at me.
“You caused this.”
I almost could not believe it.
I walked close enough for her to hear me clearly.
“You threw a pot at my head twelve hours ago.”
Her mouth tightened.
“And somehow that is still not the worst thing you may have done.”
She looked away.
At 2:31, the house became quiet.
Andrew sat on the front steps.
I stood behind the locked screen door.
“Where will you go?”
He laughed bitterly.
“Do you care?”
“No. But I want your keys.”
He slid them through the mail slot.
Then looked up at me.
“Claire, if Marcus gets arrested, he will try to drag me down with him.”
“That sounds like a problem for your lawyer.”
“He has documents.”
“So do I.”
“He has recordings too.”
I paused.
“What recordings?”
Andrew stood.
“He recorded everyone.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
Then he said the one thing that kept me awake until sunrise.
“He recorded you, Claire.”
I stared at him.
“I never met Marcus outside work events.”
“You didn’t have to.”
May you like
Andrew looked ashamed.
“He recorded you inside our house.”
