Chapter 9: The Night My First Wife Died
I couldn't stop thinking about Caroline's final words.
An unlisted medication.
A hospital room.
Richard Mitchell.
And Vanessa's mysterious phone call.
For seven years, I had blamed myself for not being able to save Rebecca.
Now I was beginning to wonder whether someone had deliberately prevented me from reaching her when she needed me most.
Patricia arranged for Caroline's statement to be formally recorded.
She also contacted the appropriate authorities to request an examination of the hospital records and the suspicious medication entry.
I wanted answers immediately.
But Patricia reminded me that suspicion was not proof.
"Daniel, we need to establish exactly what happened," she said.
"She was my wife.""
"I know.""
"Someone threatened her. Someone forged her signature. Someone kept me away from her.""
"I understand.""
"And now my son is being targeted by the same people.""
Patricia looked at me.
"Then we'll make sure every piece of evidence is preserved.""
I nodded.
But inside, I was burning.
That afternoon, I received a call from Ryan.
I nearly ignored it.
Then I remembered Patricia's advice.
I answered and immediately placed the call on speaker, recording the conversation where legally permitted.
"Mr. Carter," Ryan said.
"What do you want?""
"I think we should meet.""
"No.""
"Please. This has gone too far.""
I laughed.
"You're only realizing that now?""
Ryan sighed.
"Your wife and I made mistakes.""
"Don't call Vanessa my wife.""
There was silence.
Then he said, "I understand.""
"Do you?""
"Yes. But there's something you don't know.""
I looked toward Patricia, who was sitting across from me.
"Go on.""
"Richard has been handling the trust issue for years. Vanessa was only supposed to help him get the documents.""
"Why?""
"Because she had access to you.""
I closed my eyes.
"So that's why she married me.""
"Not exactly.""
"Stop protecting her.""
Ryan exhaled.
"Richard found out that you were going to inherit responsibility for the trust after Rebecca died. He believed you wouldn't cooperate.""
"Then why did he involve Vanessa?""
"Because she was someone Richard trusted.""
I leaned forward.
"How did she know my first wife?""
Ryan was silent.
Then he said:
"She met Rebecca before you ever met her.""
My stomach tightened.
"When?""
"At the hospital.""
I looked at Patricia.
She immediately began writing.
"Why was Vanessa at the hospital?""
"She knew Richard.""
"That's not an answer.""
Ryan lowered his voice.
"She was working for one of his companies at the time.""
I froze.
"What company?""
"Mitchell Residential Group.""
"Doing what?""
"Administrative work. Handling documents.""
I felt sick.
"You're telling me my second wife was connected to Richard Mitchell seven years before she married me?""
"Yes.""
"Did she know about the trust?""
"Yes.""
"Did she know Rebecca was suspicious of him?""
"Yes.""
I stood.
"Then why did she pretend to be a stranger when we met?""
Ryan said nothing.
I repeated the question.
"Why?""
Finally, he answered.
"Because she was supposed to get close to you.""
The room became silent.
I stared at the phone.
"Get close to me for what?""
"To find out where the original trust documents were kept.""
I felt my blood run cold.
"And did she?""
Ryan hesitated.
"Yes.""
I looked toward Patricia.
She raised a finger, silently telling me to keep him talking.
I swallowed.
"Where?""
"In Rebecca's old desk.""
I remembered the letter.
The wooden box.
The envelope.
Everything Rebecca had hidden.
I asked, "What happened to the original documents?""
Ryan answered quietly.
"Richard took copies years ago.""
"Copies?""
"Yes.""
"Why did he need Vanessa to find them?""
"Because the trust had been amended after Rebecca's death, and he needed to establish a connection between the old document and the new application.""
I closed my eyes.
"So the forged signature was part of a larger plan.""
"Yes.""
I took a slow breath.
"Did Vanessa know Richard visited Rebecca in the hospital?""
Ryan didn't answer.
"Ryan.""
"Yes.""
My chest tightened.
"Did she know about the medication?""
A long silence followed.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
"She was the one who brought it.""
I stopped breathing.
"What?""
"She brought the medication to the hospital.""
I looked at Patricia.
She was staring at me.
I forced myself to speak.
"Are you saying Vanessa caused Rebecca's death?""
Ryan's voice shook.
"I didn't say that.""
"Then explain.""
"I don't know what happened after she delivered it. Richard handled everything.""
"Why would she bring medication into a hospital?""
"Because Richard told her it was authorized.""
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Did she believe him?""
"I don't know.""
"Did she know it wasn't part of Rebecca's treatment?""
Ryan was silent.
Then he whispered:
"Yes.""
I felt something inside me collapse.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to find Vanessa and demand that she look me in the eyes while explaining what she had done.
But Patricia motioned for me to remain calm.
I forced myself to ask one final question.
"Why are you telling me this?""
Ryan sighed.
"Because Richard is planning to disappear.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"He knows you're investigating. He's moving money and preparing to leave the country.""
"Where?""
"I don't know.""
"Then why call me?""
Ryan's voice became desperate.
"Because I don't want to go to prison for something I didn't do.""
I laughed bitterly.
"You helped forge documents involving my son.""
"I know.""
"You brought another man into my house.""
"I know.""
"You watched Ethan become frightened of you.""
Ryan said nothing.
Then he whispered:
"There's something else. Richard has a copy of the original hospital authorization. It proves Vanessa wasn't acting alone.""
I looked at Patricia.
"Where is it?""
Ryan answered.
"At his private office.""
"Which office?""
"His old office on West Monroe Street.""
Patricia wrote down the address.
Then she leaned toward the phone.
"Ryan Mitchell, this is Patricia Wilson, Daniel Carter's attorney. Are you willing to provide a formal statement and cooperate with the investigation?""
Ryan hesitated.
Then he said:
"Yes.""
That evening, I returned to Laura's house.
Ethan was sitting on the sofa, watching a cartoon.
He looked up when I entered.
"Daddy!""
I smiled and sat beside him.
"How was your day?""
"Good.""
He held up a drawing.
It showed two people standing beside a tree.
One was a little boy.
The other was a tall man.
"Who's this?"" I asked.
"That's you.""
"And who's that?""
"Me.""
I smiled.
"Where's everyone else?""
He shrugged.
"Just us.""
I hugged him.
For the first time in days, he seemed relaxed.
Then he looked at me.
"Daddy?""
"Yes?""
"Will Mommy ever come back?""
I felt a lump in my throat.
"No, sweetheart.""
He lowered his eyes.
"Will Vanessa come back?""
I thought carefully before answering.
"That's something the grown-ups will decide. But nobody will force you to live somewhere you don't feel safe.""
He nodded.
Then he leaned against me.
I kissed his hair.
"I love you, Ethan.""
"I love you too, Daddy.""
I held him until he fell asleep.
And I made myself another promise.
Whatever happened next, he would never have to carry the burden of the adults' secrets again.
The following morning, Patricia received confirmation that investigators had located additional records connected to Rebecca's hospitalization.
A medication entry appeared in the hospital's archived system.
But there was a problem.
The entry had been added after Rebecca died.
The person who entered it was listed as a hospital administrator.
The approval field contained Richard Mitchell's name.
Patricia called me.
"Daniel, we need to discuss something.""
"What?""
"The hospital's internal records suggest that the medication was not part of Rebecca's prescribed treatment.""
I closed my eyes.
"Can they prove what it was?""
"Not yet. The archived medication code is incomplete. Investigators are working with the hospital's records department.""
"What about the person who entered it?""
"That individual is deceased.""
I leaned back.
"Of course.""
"But there's another record.""
"What?""
"A visitor authorization signed the same day.""
I gripped the phone.
"Whose name?""
"Vanessa Carter.""
I felt sick.
Patricia continued.
"Her signature appears on a form stating that she had delivered a sealed package to Rebecca's room.""
I couldn't speak.
"Daniel?""
"I'm here.""
"We need to establish what was inside that package.""
I stared out the window.
Then I remembered Ryan's words.
She was the one who brought it.
I asked Patricia to send the document.
When it arrived, I opened the attachment.
There was Vanessa's signature.
And beneath it, a handwritten note.
*Package received and delivered directly to patient.*
I zoomed in.
The date was seven years earlier.
Three days before Rebecca died.
I felt my hands begin to tremble.
But then I noticed something else.
The nurse who signed the receiving section was not Caroline Brooks.
It was another nurse.
A woman named Melissa Grant.
I immediately sent the document to Patricia.
"Find her," I said.
"We'll try.""
That afternoon, I received a call from an unknown number.
A woman's voice spoke.
"Mr. Carter?""
"Yes.""
"My name is Melissa Grant.""
I stood immediately.
"You're the nurse who signed Rebecca's hospital delivery record?""
There was a pause.
"Yes.""
I struggled to breathe.
"Do you remember my wife?""
"I do.""
"Do you remember the package Vanessa delivered?""
Melissa became quiet.
Then she said:
"I remember it very clearly.""
I sat down.
"What was inside?""
"I was told it contained medication authorized by the patient's family.""
"Who told you that?""
"Richard Mitchell.""
I closed my eyes.
"Did you administer it?""
"No.""
My heart pounded.
"Why not?""
"Because the package wasn't labeled correctly. I questioned it, and Richard became angry.""
I gripped the phone.
"What happened next?""
"He told me the hospital had already approved it.""
"Did you believe him?""
"No.""
I felt a rush of relief.
"Where is the package now?""
"I don't know. I reported the incident to my supervisor, but the record disappeared from the system.""
I went cold.
"Disappeared?""
"Yes. I was told not to discuss it again.""
"Did you tell anyone?""
Melissa hesitated.
"One person.""
"Who?""
"Rebecca.""
My throat tightened.
"What did she say?""
Melissa began crying.
"She asked me to help her get a message to you.""
I closed my eyes.
"Did you?""
"No.""
"Why?""
"Because Richard threatened my family.""
I felt sick.
"Melissa, what was the message?""
She took a shaky breath.
Then she said:
"Rebecca told me to tell you that the person you trusted most was the person she feared.""
I couldn't move.
I thought about the people around Rebecca during those final days.
The doctors.
The nurses.
Richard.
And Vanessa.
I asked quietly:
"Did Rebecca name the person?""
Melissa whispered:
"Yes.""
I held my breath.
"Who?""
She answered.
"Vanessa.""
The call ended.
I sat motionless.
For seven years, I had believed Vanessa entered my life after Rebecca died.
Now I knew she had been there before Rebecca's death.
She had known my first wife.
She had known about Ethan's inheritance.
And she had apparently been the person Rebecca feared most.
I called Patricia immediately.
But before I could explain what Melissa had told me, another call came through.
It was Laura.
Her voice was frantic.
"Daniel, you need to come home immediately.""
"What happened?""
"Ethan is missing.""
My heart stopped.
"What do you mean missing?""
"Someone came to the house claiming you sent them.""
I stood so quickly that my chair fell backward.
"Who?""
Laura began crying.
"He said his name was Ryan Mitchell.""
I couldn't breathe.
"Where is Ethan?""
"I don't know!""
I heard something crash in the background.
Then Laura shouted:
"Daniel, wait! There's a message on the door!""
The call went silent for a moment.
When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible.
"It says if you want your son back, you must bring the original trust documents.""
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Then my phone received a photograph.
It showed Ethan sitting in the back seat of a black Mercedes.
His eyes were red.
His hands were pressed against the window.
And beside him was a man I recognized immediately.
Richard Mitchell.
May you like
The message beneath the photograph contained only one sentence.
*You have one hour to decide whether your son is worth six million dollars.*
