Chapter 2 - The Voice on the Recording
“Mom, put the bat down before somebody gets killed.”
Nathan’s voice came through the tiny speaker in my mother’s cracked phone.
For several seconds, I couldn’t breathe.
Detective Laura Mitchell watched me without blinking.
Sergeant Brennan had moved away from the desk, giving us space, but I could feel every officer in the room pretending not to listen.
The recording continued.
My mother was crying.
“She took it, Nathan. I know she took it.”
Then Emily’s voice.
Not angry.
Terrified.
“Margaret, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please put the bat down.”
A scraping sound followed.
Something struck wood.
My mother screamed.
Then Nathan spoke again.
“Emily, just give her the envelope.”
“What envelope?”
“The one from Dad’s lawyer.”
My head snapped toward Detective Mitchell.
“What envelope?”
She raised one finger.
“Keep listening.”
On the recording, Emily’s breathing became faster.
“Nathan, why are you here?”
“I came because Mom called me.”
“That’s a lie. She got here three minutes after you.”
Silence.
A terrible, heavy silence.
Then my mother’s voice changed.
“You said she had the papers.”
Nathan answered quickly.
“She does.”
“No, I don’t!” Emily shouted.
Another crash.
Then my mother yelled, “You stole from this family!”
Emily began crying.
“Margaret, Daniel is your son. You know me. I have been married to him for eleven years. Why would I steal from you?”
Nathan cut in.
“Because you know what Dad left Daniel.”
My skin turned cold.
My father had been dead for almost four years.
As far as I knew, there had been nothing mysterious about his estate.
Dad had owned a small commercial property company called Hayes Development. Nathan and I had each received minority shares. Mom controlled the rest.
There had been no secret inheritance.
At least none I knew about.
On the recording, my mother suddenly shouted, “Give me the phone!”
Emily answered, “No.”
Then a violent sound exploded through the speaker.
A scream.
Furniture crashing.
Nathan cursed.
“Mom!”
The next sound made my entire body stiffen.
The unmistakable crack of a baseball bat striking something.
Once.
Then twice.
Emily screamed.
“Stop!”
Nathan shouted.
“Jesus Christ, Mom!”
More scrambling.
Then the recording became muffled, as if the phone had fallen beneath furniture.
But the voices continued.
Emily sobbed.
“You broke my wrist.”
My head jerked up.
“Her wrist?”
Detective Mitchell nodded once.
I stared at her.
“My mother told me Emily beat her.”
“She did.”
“What?”
Mitchell paused the recording.
“This is why I told Sergeant Brennan not to charge anyone until we understood what happened.”
I felt myself losing control.
“Did Emily hit my mother or not?”
“Yes.”
“With the bat?”
“No.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Mitchell continued.
“Your wife struck your mother once with her open hand after your mother hit her twice with the bat.”
I stared at her.
“That doesn’t explain Mom’s ribs.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
She pressed play again.
Nathan’s voice came through the speaker.
“Mom, you’re bleeding.”
My mother moaned.
“I fell.”
Emily said, “Don’t move her.”
“Stay away from me!”
“Margaret, I’m trying to help you.”
Then Nathan whispered something.
It was faint.
Mitchell increased the volume.
The words became clear.
“Mom, listen to me. When the police get here, you tell them Emily grabbed the bat first.”
I felt every muscle in my body lock.
My mother whispered back.
“But she didn’t.”
“Do you want Daniel to lose everything?”
Silence.
Then Nathan said the sentence that changed the entire shape of the evening.
“Because if he finds Dad’s letter, we all do.”
Detective Mitchell stopped the recording.
Nobody spoke.
Finally I heard my own voice.
“What letter?”
Mitchell slid the phone into the evidence bag.
“We were hoping you could tell us.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
She studied my face carefully.
“You’re certain?”
“Yes.”
“Did your father ever mention an attorney named Charles Whitaker?”
I almost laughed from shock.
“Whitaker handled Dad’s business contracts for twenty years.”
“Did he handle the estate?”
“No. Nathan said Dad changed attorneys six months before he died.”
Mitchell exchanged a glance with Brennan.
That look scared me more than anything I had heard on the recording.
“What?”
She didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she opened a folder.
Inside was a photograph.
A yellow legal envelope lay on the kitchen floor beside our dining table.
Across the front, written in my father’s handwriting, were five words.
FOR DANIEL. ONLY IF NECESSARY.
My father’s handwriting.
I knew it instantly.
“Where did you find that?”
“In your house.”
“My house?”
“Behind a loose panel inside your wife’s home office.”
I looked at her.
“Emily hid it?”
“We don’t know.”
A different kind of fear entered my chest.
“When did she get it?”
“That’s one of the things we’re trying to determine.”
I stepped back.
For the first time since entering the station, anger was no longer the strongest thing I felt.
Confusion was.
Then Detective Mitchell said, “There’s something else.”
She removed a second photograph.
It showed the envelope open.
Empty.
“The letter is missing.”
I stared at the image.
“Nathan?”
“Maybe.”
“My mother?”
“Maybe.”
“Emily?”
Mitchell didn’t answer.
And that frightened me.
“Can I see my wife?”
“She’s asking for you.”
I followed Mitchell through the security doors.
The hallway seemed longer than it should have been.
At the end, she opened a small interview room.
Emily sat at the table wearing a gray blanket around her shoulders.
Her right wrist was wrapped in a temporary splint.
There was blood dried near her hairline.
The second she saw me, she stood.
“Daniel.”
I wanted to run to her.
Instead, I froze.
Not because I believed she had attacked my mother.
Because of what she said next.
“I’m sorry.”
My stomach dropped.
“For what?”
May you like
Her eyes filled with tears.
“For not telling you I found your father’s letter three weeks ago.”
