Chapter 2 - The Search of the Homestead
The red and blue emergency lights flashing against the brick facade of my home illuminated the dark driveway as Officer Martinez and two backup units swept the perimeter. I had left Lily in the care of a trusted pediatric nurse at the hospital, promising I would be back within the hour. Taylor had ridden back with me in my car, neither of us speaking a single word during the ten-minute drive. The air between us was thick with the wreckage of a marriage that had died years ago and the terrifying reality of what was happening now.
As I pulled the car to a stop near the garage, I saw Martinez shining his heavy-duty flashlight through the side windows of our house.
"She's not answering the front door," Martinez said as we walked up the steps. "And the back patio door was unlocked."
"She hates when people leave the patio door unlocked," Taylor muttered automatically, her voice trembling. Then she stopped, realizing how absurd her statement sounded given the circumstances. "I mean... she’s meticulous about the house."
"Meticulous," I repeated bitterly, pushing the front door open. "Is that what we're calling cruelty now?"
"Julian, stop it," Taylor hissed, grabbing my arm. "You've always hated my mother. You've looked for any excuse to push her out of our lives since the divorce. You don't know what happened in that garage. Maybe Lily was playing hide-and-seek. Maybe she climbed in herself—"
"She was locked from the outside, Taylor!" I shouted, the restraint finally snapping. "The mechanical latch on that chest freezer requires an adult to push it down and latch the security hook! An eight-year-old child cannot latch a heavy lid from the inside! Your mother locked her in there and left her to freeze in the dark!"
Taylor recoiled as if I had struck her, tears finally spilling over her eyelashes. But she didn't defend her mother anymore. She just turned away, covering her face with her hands.
Officer Martinez cleared his throat from the top of the grand staircase. "Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, you’re going to want to see this."
We followed him up the carpeted stairs and down the dimly lit hallway toward the guest suite. The door to the room was cracked open, revealing a sliver of warm light spilling onto the hardwood floor.
Martinez pushed the door open fully.
Evelyn Carter was sitting in the floral armchair by the window, exactly where she probably had been all evening. She was wearing her pristine beige cardigan, her silver hair neatly brushed, her reading glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. On her lap sat a leather-bound book of crossword puzzles and a red pen.
May you like
She looked up calmly as we entered, as if we were interrupting a pleasant afternoon tea.
"Oh," Evelyn said smoothly, her voice entirely devoid of panic. "You're back early, Taylor. Did you remember to get my blood pressure medication from the pharmacy?"
