Chapter 13 - The Laptop
Nobody treated Richard’s laptop like ordinary evidence.
Detective Miller called the cybercrime unit.
Two agents arrived.
They photographed the machine, bagged it, documented the charger, and took Tyler’s statement twice.
By evening, a judge had signed an emergency warrant.
I spent those hours sitting at Grandma’s kitchen table, staring at the empty chair across from me.
Judge Pendelton stayed.
So did Eleanor.
Susan and Tyler were at the precinct.
At six forty, Miller called.
“We found the folder.”
My fingers went numb.
“What does it mean?”
“We’re still analyzing.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
I stood.
“Detective.”
He exhaled.
“There are photographs of you taken over approximately four months.”
“Four months?”
“At work. At Grandma’s house. At the grocery store. Outside hospice.”
I pressed a hand against the counter.
“Who took them?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“What else?”
“Vehicle information. Your usual routes. Insurance coverage.”
My throat tightened.
“And the accident note?”
“It appears to be Richard’s handwriting, but we’ll need forensic confirmation.”
“Was he planning to kill me?”
Silence.
“Detective?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
I shut my eyes.
Miller continued.
“There are also communications with Northstar executives discussing the beneficiary problem.”
“Beneficiary problem.”
“That phrase appears several times.”
“What do they say?”
“We need context.”
“Read me one.”
“I can’t release evidentiary material.”
Anger flashed through me.
“He is my father, and he has photos of me driving to work with notes about accidents!”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
My voice cracked.
“I spent twenty years believing he didn’t care enough to notice whether I lived or died. Now you’re telling me he noticed everything.”
Pendelton gently took the phone.
“Detective, does Chloe need immediate protective custody?”
A pause.
Then:
“I’m sending a unit to Maple Street.”
That answered everything.
By eight, a patrol car sat outside.
I hated it.
The flashing reflection against Grandma’s curtains made the house feel invaded.
Then someone knocked.
Three sharp taps.
Pendelton looked through the peephole.
“It’s Tyler.”
I opened the door.
He stood alone.
“Where’s Susan?”
“At a hotel.”
“You should be with her.”
“I needed to talk to you.”
He looked toward the patrol car.
“Dad really did all this?”
“I’m still learning what ‘all this’ means.”
Tyler shoved his hands into his hoodie.
“I thought he was tough.”
I said nothing.
“He used to tell me you were weak because you stayed with Grandma.”
“Did you believe him?”
“Yes.”
At least he didn’t lie.
“I thought success meant getting out.”
“Grandma never trapped anyone.”
“I know that now.”
He sat on the porch step.
I remained standing.
“Last year Dad made me follow you once.”
My blood chilled.
“What?”
“He said he thought you were stealing from Grandma.”
“When?”
“March.”
“Where?”
“You left hospice and went to a pharmacy.”
He rubbed his face.
“I took pictures.”
I stared at him.
“You helped him surveil me.”
“I didn’t understand.”
“You were eighteen.”
“I know.”
“You understood enough.”
His eyes watered.
“I know.”
I wanted him gone.
Then he said something that changed my mind.
“He had me follow Grandma too.”
I sat down.
“What?”
“Twice.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to know which bank she used.”
“When?”
“Last summer.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Did she go anywhere?”
“First Federal branch near Elm Avenue.”
I frowned.
“That branch closed years ago.”
“She didn’t go inside.”
“What did she do?”
“She met a man in the parking lot.”
“What man?”
“Older. Maybe sixty.”
“Did Dad know who he was?”
“No.”
“You took pictures?”
Tyler nodded.
“They’re on my phone.”
He showed me.
The image was blurry.
Grandma stood near a silver sedan.
Beside her was a broad-shouldered man with white hair.
Judge Pendelton looked over my shoulder.
His expression changed.
“You know him?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Pendelton took the phone.
“Samuel Kerr.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Who is he?”
“Your grandfather’s former business partner.”
“I thought Grandpa worked at the rail yard.”
“He did.”
Pendelton looked troubled.
“But before that, Samuel Kerr and your grandfather jointly owned mineral rights along the northern river corridor.”
My stomach tightened.
“The same riverfront land?”
“Yes.”
“Why was Grandma meeting him?”
“That,” Pendelton said, “I do not know.”
Tyler swiped to the next photograph.
Samuel Kerr was handing Grandma a sealed envelope.
May you like
On the front, written in black marker, were two words.
FOR CHLOE.
