Chapter 6 - MY HUSBAND’S SECOND LIE
When Daniel came back into the room, Detective Hale was waiting.
Daniel looked at me first.
Then the detective.
His expression changed.
“What happened?”
Hale did not waste time.
“Your wife tested positive for lorazepam.”
Daniel blinked.
“That’s not possible.”
I watched him carefully.
Not his words.
His face.
His breathing.
The tiny changes I had ignored for years.
“Did you give her any?”
“No.”
“Did your mother?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does your mother take lorazepam?”
“Yes.”
“Where does she keep it?”
“Her bathroom.”
“Do you have access?”
“It’s not locked.”
Hale continued.
“Your wife says you handed her an opened bottle of water before you drove to dinner.”
Daniel turned toward me.
“You think I put something in your water?”
“I’m asking.”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
The answer was fast.
Firm.
Then Detective Hale asked,
“Where is the bottle?”
Daniel stopped.
“I don’t know.”
“You drove here.”
“It’s probably in the car.”
Hale nodded toward an officer outside.
“We’ll take a look.”
Daniel’s face changed again.
Small.
But unmistakable.
Fear.
The bottle was in the passenger door compartment.
Half empty.
Three hours later, preliminary testing indicated the water contained traces of the same medication.
Not enough to tell us who put it there.
Enough to change everything.
Daniel denied it.
He denied it so intensely that for several minutes I almost believed him.
“Rachel, I swear to you.”
He stood near the foot of my bed.
“I did not put anything in that bottle.”
“Then who did?”
“I don’t know.”
“You opened it.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“At home.”
“Was your mother at our house today?”
“No.”
“Your father?”
“No.”
“Lydia?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Daniel looked genuinely lost.
For once, I believed that part.
Then he said,
“I took the bottle from Mom’s garage refrigerator.”
Silence.
“What?”
“When I went over early to help Dad move some boxes.”
“You brought me water from her house.”
“Yes.”
“And didn’t tell me.”
“Why would I?”
My heart pounded.
Detective Hale asked, “Did anyone see you take it?”
“My mother was in the garage.”
The answer settled heavily.
Daniel rubbed both hands over his face.
“Oh, God.”
For the first time that night, the possibility seemed to strike him fully.
Not that his mother was difficult.
Not that she had a temper.
Not that she occasionally crossed boundaries.
That she might have drugged his wife before pushing her down the stairs.
He sat down.
“I didn’t know.”
I stared at him.
“Maybe not tonight.”
He looked up.
“But you knew before.”
His shoulders fell.
“Yes.”
That distinction mattered.
He had not necessarily planned what happened.
But he had built the conditions that allowed it.
Every excuse.
Every lie.
Every time he stopped me from reporting something.
Every time he told me Evelyn loved too deeply.
Every time he called Lydia unstable.
He had taught his mother there would be no consequences.
Detective Hale left us alone with Monica.
Daniel cried.
I did not comfort him.
“I thought I could manage her,” he said.
“That was your mistake.”
“I thought if I kept everyone calm—”
“You mean me.”
He looked at me.
“You kept me calm.”
I continued.
“When she insulted me, you told me not to react.”
“Yes.”
“When she grabbed me, you told me she was emotional.”
“Yes.”
“When I woke up injured, you gave me explanations.”
“Yes.”
“When Lydia warned me, you told me she was crazy.”
Daniel covered his face.
“Yes.”
“And every time your mother learned the same lesson.”
He lowered his hands.
“What?”
“That you would help clean up afterward.”
He started crying harder.
I felt nothing.
That frightened me.
Not because I wanted to care.
Because I realized how much of myself I had spent keeping him comfortable.
There was almost nothing left.
My phone buzzed.
Lydia again.
Dad knows I took the drive.
Then:
He’s looking for me.
I immediately called her.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Daniel stood.
“What happened?”
“Your father knows.”
His face drained.
“Where is Lydia?”
“She won’t answer.”
He reached for his phone.
I stopped him.
“No.”
“Rachel, if Dad is angry—”
“What?”
I stared at him.
“What does your father do when he’s angry?”
Daniel froze.
His silence changed the room.
I had spent the entire night fearing Evelyn.
Suddenly, I realized everyone in that family feared Richard more.
“Daniel.”
He looked at me.
“What does your father do?”
His voice was barely audible.
“He makes problems disappear.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
Before he could answer, Detective Hale rushed through the door.
“Mrs. Parker, we need the location where Lydia said she was staying.”
“Why?”
“We found her car.”
My heart slammed.
“Where?”
“Two blocks from the hospital.”
“Is she in it?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
Hale’s expression hardened.
May you like
“The driver-side window is broken.”
And on the front seat, they had found Lydia’s phone.
