Chapter 3
We never made it to Emily’s old house quietly.
Three patrol cars went first.
Rachel drove behind them.
Michael and I followed in his truck after I refused to stay behind.
Lauren was taken to the station.
Her father went with her in handcuffs after assaulting the officer.
Her mother sat crying in the church parking lot, looking like the last person alive who still believed the wedding could somehow be saved.
Sophie went home with my mother.
I called her before we left.
“Lock the doors.”
“Already done.”
“Don’t open them for anyone.”
“Daniel, what do you think is going to happen?”
“I don’t know.”
That was the truth now.
I knew nothing.
Not about Lauren.
Not about Emily’s death.
Not about the life I thought I had lived.
The drive took thirty-five minutes.
Emily’s childhood home sat outside Franklin, beyond a narrow road lined with oak trees.
I had not been there since her mother’s funeral five years earlier.
The house looked smaller than I remembered.
Dark.
Forgotten.
One upstairs window was broken.
The porch sagged.
But the front door was open.
Rachel raised a hand.
“Stay here.”
I got out anyway.
She glared at me.
“I said stay.”
“That was my wife’s home.”
“And it may be an active crime scene.”
Michael grabbed my shoulder.
“Listen to her.”
I wanted to argue.
Then an officer inside shouted.
“Detective!”
Rachel ran.
I followed before anyone could stop me.
The smell hit first.
Gasoline.
Strong.
Fresh.
The living room floor was covered in papers.
Boxes had been ripped open.
Furniture was overturned.
Someone had been searching.
Rachel turned.
“Out. Now.”
Then we heard a crash from upstairs.
Every officer froze.
Rachel drew her weapon.
“Police!”
Footsteps thundered overhead.
Someone ran toward the back of the house.
An officer sprinted outside.
Another took the stairs.
I saw movement through the kitchen.
A figure jumped from the rear porch and disappeared through the trees.
“Back!”
Rachel shouted at me.
Then three officers went after him.
Michael pulled me outside.
“Daniel, you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I need to know.”
“So do I.”
He looked scared.
That stopped me.
Michael was never scared.
He had been the calm one after Emily died.
He handled funeral arrangements when I could barely stand.
He took Sophie to school.
He brought food.
He slept on our couch for almost a month.
Now his face had gone gray.
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“That’s not nothing.”
Before he could answer, Rachel came outside carrying an old metal cash box.
The lock had been broken.
My pulse jumped.
“The key,” I said.
She nodded.
“Probably belonged to this.”
Inside were photographs.
Bank statements.
A flash drive.
And a handwritten notebook.
Rachel flipped the cover open carefully.
Her expression changed.
“What is it?”
She didn’t answer immediately.
Then she looked at me.
“It belonged to Emily.”
I recognized the handwriting before she showed me.
Emily always wrote in tiny letters.
She hated wasting paper.
Rachel read one line.
“If anything happens to me, Daniel needs to know I was right.”
My legs weakened.
Michael grabbed my arm.
Rachel continued.
“Harlow is moving money through fake patient accounts. Lauren knows. Claire knows. Someone named Marcus is running it.”
Lauren knows.
Three years before I met her.
My mouth went dry.
Rachel turned a page.
“Lauren says she wants to help, but I don’t trust her anymore.”
I stared at the notebook.
Emily had known Lauren.
Not casually.
They had worked together.
Or investigated something together.
Rachel read more.
“Marcus threatened Sophie today.”
The world tilted.
“What?”
She lifted her eyes.
I took the notebook before she could stop me.
The date was one week before Emily died.
The entry read:
Marcus called from a blocked number. He knew Sophie’s school. He knew what time I pick her up. He said accidents happen to children too.
I stopped breathing.
Michael cursed under his breath.
Rachel gently took the notebook back.
“We need to process this.”
“My daughter was threatened.”
“Three years ago.”
“He could still be out there.”
“We don’t know who Marcus is yet.”
“I do.”
Michael’s voice came from behind me.
Rachel and I turned.
He looked like he wanted to vomit.
I stared at him.
“What did you say?”
Michael closed his eyes.
“I know Marcus.”
The forest around us seemed unnaturally quiet.
Rachel asked, “Full name?”
“Marcus Vale.”
I knew the name.
Everyone in Nashville did.
Marcus Vale was a healthcare investor.
Charity boards.
Hospital donations.
Political fundraisers.
His face appeared in magazines beside words like visionary and philanthropist.
“What does he have to do with you?” I asked.
Michael looked at me.
“I worked for him.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“You told me you were consulting for a software company.”
“It was one of his companies.”
I stepped toward him.
“You knew Emily was investigating him?”
“No.”
“Did you know she knew Lauren?”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
Rachel moved between us.
“Let him talk.”
Michael rubbed both hands over his face.
“Marcus hired my firm to build internal data systems for Harlow. I worked there for six months. I saw Emily a few times.”
“You never told me.”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“My wife worked there.”
“I knew that.”
“You saw her there and never told me?”
He looked ashamed.
“She asked me not to.”
The pain of that landed differently.
Emily had kept secrets from me too.
“Why?”
“She was scared.”
“Of me?”
“No. For you.”
Rachel asked, “What did Emily say?”
Michael stared toward the house.
“She asked if I could access Harlow’s billing database.”
My heart pounded.
“And?”
“I told her no.”
“Why?”
“Because it was illegal.”
I laughed once.
A bitter sound.
“And then she died.”
Michael flinched.
“Yes.”
“Did she ask again?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The night before the crash.”
I grabbed his shirt.
Rachel moved, but Michael lifted his hands.
“Let him.”
I pulled him closer.
“What did she say?”
“She said she had proof.”
“Of what?”
“That Harlow was stealing millions through fraudulent billing. She said people had died because treatment approvals were being manipulated to cover it.”
I released him slowly.
“Who else knew?”
Michael looked down.
“Lauren.”
My entire body went cold.
“You knew Lauren back then?”
“No. Not personally. I knew Emily mentioned a woman named Lauren.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I started dating her?”
“I didn’t know it was the same Lauren.”
“Her full name?”
“She only said Lauren.”
I wanted to believe him.
I couldn’t.
An officer emerged from the woods.
“He got away.”
Rachel swore.
“Description?”
“Male. Medium build. Black hoodie. Had a vehicle waiting on the south road.”
Rachel looked at the evidence box.
“Someone knew we were coming.”
I looked at the note from Lauren’s bouquet.
Burn everything before midnight.
“What if Lauren wasn’t telling someone to burn this?”
Rachel looked at me.
“What do you mean?”
“What if someone gave that note to her?”
Michael stared.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed.
“Then maybe the wedding was being used as a deadline.”
My phone rang.
Mom.
I answered immediately.
“What happened?”
Silence.
Then breathing.
Not my mother’s.
A man spoke.
“Daniel?”
My blood froze.
“Who is this?”
“You should have married Lauren.”
“Where is my family?”
The man laughed quietly.
Then Sophie screamed in the background.
I nearly dropped the phone.
“Daddy!”
I shouted her name.
The man returned.
“You opened something Emily worked very hard to close.”
“If you touch my daughter—”
“Listen carefully.”
Rachel was already signaling officers.
Michael stared at me.
The man continued.
“You have one hour.”
“For what?”
“Bring me Emily’s notebook.”
“Where?”
“I’ll text the location.”
“And Sophie?”
Another pause.
Then my mother cried out.
My heart stopped.
May you like
The man said, “Bring the notebook alone, or you lose them both.”
The line went dead.
