Chapter 6
Officer Hernandez called patrol units while I watched Jonathan move through my house.
“He knows exactly where he’s going,” I said.
Grant looked over my shoulder.
“He has a floor plan.”
“How?”
“I photographed parts of the house from outside, but I never entered.”
Mason stood near the elevators, pretending not to listen.
I faced him.
“Did you give Jonathan a key?”
“No.”
“Mom has one. Rachel has one. You could have taken either.”
“You’re blaming me because you need a villain.”
“My daughter was drugged. My sister abandoned her. My mother tried to take custody. You arrived with a false accusation. I don’t need to invent villains.”
On the screen, Jonathan opened the medicine cabinet.
He removed several bottles, placed the pink one among them, then photographed the shelf.
“He’s planting evidence,” Grant said.
Officer Hernandez spoke into his radio.
“Suspect is inside the kitchen. Possible evidence tampering. Approach quietly.”
Jonathan closed the cabinet.
He walked into my bedroom.
I switched cameras.
He opened my desk drawer and placed something inside.
A prescription pad.
My prescription pad.
I worked in a hospital, but I did not prescribe medication.
The pad carried the name of a physician from my department.
“He stole that,” I said. “Or copied it.”
Mason folded his arms.
“Maybe you forgot you had it.”
Hernandez looked at him.
“You may want to stop talking.”
The camera feed suddenly froze.
Jonathan had found the router.
A black screen replaced the image.
My heart pounded.
“If he knows the police are coming—”
“He doesn’t,” Hernandez said. “The responding units have not activated sirens.”
Two minutes passed.
Then five.
Every second felt too long.
Finally, Hernandez’s radio crackled.
“Suspect detained at rear exit.”
I exhaled.
“Did they find the bottle?”
“They recovered several items.”
Mason turned toward the elevators.
Tessa stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
“To get coffee.”
“Mr. Reed, the police may have questions.”
“I don’t know Jonathan.”
Grant pulled up a photograph.
Mason and Jonathan stood together outside the county courthouse.
The date was ten days earlier.
I held the tablet toward him.
“Want to try again?”
Mason’s face hardened.
“He represented me in a family matter.”
“The hearing tomorrow?”
“I had the right to consult an attorney.”
“Did you ask him to plant medicine in my house?”
“No.”
“Did Mom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Rachel?”
“I don’t know.”
“You seem to know very little for a man trying to take my child.”
He leaned toward me.
“I’m trying to save Chloe from a woman who cares more about being right than keeping her family together.”
I felt a strange calm.
For years, those words would have wounded me.
Now I heard them for what they were.
A script.
A weapon.
A desperate man’s attempt to make my strength look like cruelty.
“My family is in that room,” I said. “You are trying to take her away.”
Hernandez approached Mason.
“I need you to come to the station for an interview.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not at this time.”
“Then I’m not going.”
“You can refuse, but your refusal will be documented.”
Mason smiled.
“Document whatever you want.”
He pressed the elevator button.
Before the doors opened, another officer arrived.
He carried a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a brass key.
“We recovered this from Pierce,” the officer said. “The homeowner’s alarm company confirmed it opened the back door.”
Hernandez showed it to me.
“Do you recognize it?”
A strip of blue nail polish marked the top.
Rachel painted all her spare keys that way.
“It belongs to my sister.”
Mason looked away.
The officer held up another bag.
It contained the pink bottle.
The pharmacy label bore my name.
I had never seen it.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Liquid sedative,” he said. “The same general type the hospital found in Chloe’s blood.”
Grant swore quietly.
The bottle had been filled three days earlier.
The prescriber was Dr. Samuel Lane, one of the emergency physicians I worked with.
I called him.
He answered on the second ring.
“Olivia? I heard about Chloe. Is she okay?”
“She’s recovering. Sam, did you prescribe a sedative in my name?”
“What? No.”
“Someone used your prescription pad.”
“That’s impossible. My pads are locked.”
“Did anything go missing?”
He became silent.
“Last week, a woman came into the staff area looking for you. She said she was your sister.”
Rachel had visited me with coffee.
She had spent almost twenty minutes waiting near the physicians’ lounge while I finished with a patient.
“I’m with the police,” I said. “They’ll need a statement.”
“Anything you need.”
I ended the call.
Mason had stopped trying to leave.
He looked pale.
“This has gone too far,” he muttered.
I stared at him.
“When was it acceptable?”
“I agreed to a custody petition. I didn’t agree to drugging Chloe.”
“But you knew they planned to frame me.”
“No.”
Grant opened an audio file.
Mason’s voice came through the tablet.
Once the medication is found in Olivia’s house, no judge will leave Chloe with her.
Mason lunged for the device.
Officer Hernandez caught his arm.
“Step back.”
“That recording is illegal.”
“Tennessee permits one-party consent,” Grant said. “I was part of that conversation.”
Mason pointed at him.
“You set me up.”
Grant’s expression did not change.
“I documented you.”
Tessa stared at Mason with disgust.
“You came here claiming concern for your daughter while you knew someone planned to plant evidence against her mother.”
“I thought the medication was already there.”
“Your own words say otherwise.”
“I was talking hypothetically.”
Hernandez took out his handcuffs.
“Mason Reed, you are under arrest for conspiracy to tamper with evidence and attempted fraud upon the court.”
Mason stepped back.
“You can’t prove conspiracy.”
“Then you’ll have an opportunity to explain the recording.”
The cuffs closed around his wrists.
For the first time since he entered the hospital, Mason looked afraid.
He turned toward me.
“Tell them this is a misunderstanding.”
“No.”
“You know me.”
“That is why I believe them.”
“If I go down, Rachel will blame you.”
“Rachel has blamed me for her entire life.”
“She knows things about Dad.”
The mention of Dad stopped me.
“What things?”
Mason smiled despite the cuffs.
“Ask your mother why your father really created Chloe’s trust.”
Hernandez guided him into the elevator.
“What does that mean?” I demanded.
Mason looked at me as the doors began closing.
“It was never supposed to belong to Chloe.”
Then he was gone.
Grant watched my face.
“Do you know what he meant?”
“No.”
But fear moved through me.
Dad had created the trust six months before his death.
He had told me it was for Chloe’s future.
He had insisted I be the sole trustee.
At the time, I thought he was protecting my daughter.
Now Mason’s words made the gift sound like part of a secret.
A nurse entered Chloe’s room to check her IV.
I called Dad’s former attorney, Henry Blake.
It was after nine, but he answered.
“Olivia, I heard about Diane. Are you all right?”
“Do you know why Dad created Chloe’s trust?”
Henry became quiet.
“He loved his granddaughter.”
“Is that the whole reason?”
“What happened?”
“Mason said the trust was never supposed to belong to Chloe.”
Henry exhaled slowly.
“This is not a conversation for the phone.”
“Then come to the hospital.”
“It can wait until morning.”
“No, it can’t.”
Another pause.
“I’ll be there in forty minutes.”
He arrived carrying an old brown briefcase.
Henry had been Dad’s attorney and closest friend for three decades.
He greeted me with a hug, then looked through the glass at Chloe.
“She looks so much like Thomas at that age.”
“What did Mason mean?”
Henry led me to an empty consultation room.
Grant stayed outside.
Henry placed the briefcase on the table.
“Your father made me promise not to tell you unless Diane tried to gain control of the trust.”
“She did.”
“I know.”
He opened the case and removed a sealed envelope.
My name was written across it in Dad’s handwriting.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Olivia,
If you are reading this, your mother has done what I feared she might do.
Chloe’s trust contains more than money. It holds controlling shares in Carter Development. Diane believes those shares should belong to Rachel.
They cannot.
Rachel is not your sister by blood.
I looked up at Henry.
“What?”
He lowered his eyes.
I continued reading.
Twenty-eight years ago, Diane had an affair with Jonathan Pierce. Rachel is their daughter.
Jonathan has spent years pressuring Diane to give him control of my company. I created the trust to make sure that never happened.
I am sorry I did not tell you while I was alive.
Protect Chloe.
And do not trust your mother.
The letter slipped from my hands.
Jonathan Pierce was not only Mom’s attorney.
May you like
He was Rachel’s father.
And they had nearly killed my daughter to steal the company Dad had hidden inside her trust.
