Chapter 4 - The Poisoned Well
While Mark and Chloe were being thrown out of the Miami hotel in shame, I returned immediately to New York to tackle the third head of the snake: Mrs. Higgins, the mercenary caregiver who had taken part in abusing my daughter.
At 3:00 PM, I stepped into the cold apartment where Maya had suffered.
The locks had already been changed by my security team, but Mrs. Higgins didn't know that yet. She arrived at the door carrying a key, wearing her white nurse’s uniform, carrying a designer tote bag that had once belonged to Maya.
She unlocked the door, stepping into the foyer, expecting to find a helpless, malnourished young mother lying on the couch.
Instead, she found me sitting in a single armchair in the middle of the empty living room, surrounded by four dark-suited private investigators.
Mrs. Higgins stopped dead in her tracks, her hand flying to her throat. “Oh! Mrs... Mrs. Hart! I... I didn't know you were in town!”
“Clearly,” I said, not moving an inch. “Where is my daughter, Mrs. Higgins?”
Mrs. Higgins faked a sympathetic, sorrowful sigh, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket. “Oh, poor Maya! She was feeling so ill this morning, Mrs. Hart! I told her to rest in bed while I ran out to buy special vitamins for her! I’ve been working twenty hours a day trying to keep this house running while Mark is away on his high-stress business trip!”
I gestured to one of my investigators, who set a heavy laptop down on the coffee table facing Mrs. Higgins.
“Press play,” I commanded.
The high-definition video feed captured by the hidden security cameras I had installed months ago filled the screen.
On the monitor, clear as day, was Mrs. Higgins standing in the kitchen three nights ago. Maya was lying on the floor, weeping in pain, reaching out toward the refrigerator. Mrs. Higgins walked right past her, opening the fridge, pulling out the expensive organic groceries I had ordered for Maya, and packing them into her own tote bag.
The video cut to another frame: Mrs. Higgins handing Liam’s formula cans and baby clothes directly to Chloe at the front door in exchange for a stack of hundred-dollar bills.
Mrs. Higgins’ face turned as pale as her white uniform. The fake sorrow vanished, replaced by sheer terror.
“That... that isn't what it looks like!” Mrs. Higgins stammered, her voice shaking violently. “I was just... I was storing those items at my home because the apartment was too cold!”
“You turned off the heating unit in the nursery, didn't you?” I asked softly, stepping out of my chair and walking up to her until I was standing inches away. “You turned down the thermostat so Maya would freeze, hoping her physical recovery would fail so you and Chloe could continue billing fourteen thousand dollars a month for 'full-time specialized care.'”
“No! I swear on my life!” Mrs. Higgins whimpered, backing into the front door.
“Your nursing license was revoked in Florida ten years ago for stealing narcotics from elderly patients,” I revealed, pulling a thick state regulatory file from my coat. “Chloe hired you illegally under a fake identity. You committed practicing medicine without a license, elder abuse, child endangerment, and grand theft.”
Mrs. Higgins fell against the wall, her hands trembling so hard she dropped her stolen tote bag.
Two uniformed NYPD officers, who had been waiting in the hallway outside, stepped into the apartment.
“Officer,” I said calmly. “This woman deliberately tampered with a post-surgical patient’s environment, causing life-threatening infections and severe malnourishment, while stealing controlled substances and baby supplies. Take her away.”
May you like
“You can’t do this!” Mrs. Higgins shrieked as the cold metal handcuffs clicked around her wrists. “I was just following orders! Chloe paid me!”
“You had a choice to treat a suffering mother with humanity,” I said as she was pulled into the hallway. “Now you have twenty years to think about your choice.”
