Chapter 6: The Woman Behind the Curtain
Chapter 6: The Woman Behind the Curtain
The room fell silent.
Detective James Morrison closed the door behind him and looked directly at Lauren.
"You said you know who's helping Tyler."
Lauren nodded, her face pale.
"I do."
Morrison pulled out a small notebook.
"Start from the beginning."
Lauren took a shaky breath.
"About a month ago, Tyler started disappearing for hours at a time. He always said he was meeting investors for the family company."
"Were you with him?"
"Not at first."
She hesitated.
"But one afternoon, I followed him."
"Where did he go?"
"To a private office building downtown."
"Did you see who he met?"
Lauren slowly nodded.
"A woman."
My stomach tightened.
"What woman?"
"I don't know her name."
Lauren looked at me apologetically.
"But she wasn't one of your family's friends."
Morrison leaned forward.
"What made you remember her?"
Lauren reached into her purse.
"I took a picture."
She handed him her phone.
The detective studied the image.
A woman in her early fifties stood outside the building, dressed in a dark business suit. She had silver-blonde hair pulled into a neat bun and wore dark sunglasses despite the cloudy afternoon.
Tyler stood beside her.
They weren't shaking hands.
They were hugging.
"This doesn't look like a business meeting," Morrison murmured.
Lauren shook her head.
"It wasn't."
The detective sent the photo to the department's facial recognition unit.
Less than thirty minutes later, his phone rang.
"We've got a match."
"Who is she?"
"Miriam Ross."
The name meant nothing to me.
"Who is Miriam Ross?" I asked.
Morrison's expression grew serious.
"Corporate attorney."
He paused.
"And twenty years ago..."
He looked at me carefully.
"...she represented your grandfather during a quiet internal investigation involving the Walker family business."
"What investigation?"
"No records."
"They were sealed."
My father.
I immediately thought of him.
He hated secrets becoming public.
Especially expensive ones.
Meanwhile, officers executed a search warrant at Tyler's downtown apartment.
Everything appeared spotless.
Too spotless.
Officer Daniel Ruiz opened a desk drawer.
Nothing.
Kitchen cabinets.
Nothing.
Bedroom closet.
Designer suits.
Expensive watches.
Perfectly organized.
Then Ruiz noticed one loose floorboard beneath the bedroom rug.
He carefully lifted it.
Hidden underneath was a black notebook.
Every page contained dates.
Names.
Dollar amounts.
No explanations.
Just payments.
One entry immediately caught his attention.
M.R. — $500,000
Another.
Deck Camera — Completed
Another.
M.B. — Final Payment After Estate Transfer
Ruiz immediately photographed every page.
Back at the hospital, Morrison returned carrying copies of the notebook.
He placed them beside my bed.
"Do any of these initials mean anything?"
I slowly read each page.
Then one set of initials stopped me cold.
E.W.
My hands began shaking.
"No..."
"What is it?" Morrison asked.
I looked up.
"My mother's name."
"Eleanor Walker."
The detective remained silent.
I stared at the page again.
Beside her initials was a single word.
Approved.
"No..."
I whispered again.
"My mother wouldn't..."
But even as I spoke the words...
My confidence faded.
She had told me to get up instead of calling for help.
She had immediately defended Tyler.
She had tried to stop me from telling Sarah the truth.
Had she known?
Or worse...
Had she helped?
That evening, Detective Morrison received another call from the forensic lab.
"We finished enhancing the backup video."
"Did you find anything new?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Right before Tyler pushes Bridget..."
"You can clearly see someone standing inside the house."
Morrison frowned.
"Who?"
"We enlarged the reflection in the patio door."
"And?"
The technician took a slow breath.
"It wasn't Lauren."
"It was Eleanor Walker."
The detective drove straight to the Walker mansion.
Harold Walker opened the front door himself.
"You have some nerve coming back."
"I need to speak with your wife."
Harold crossed his arms.
"My wife has nothing to say."
"I'm afraid that's no longer her choice."
Just then, Eleanor Walker appeared at the top of the staircase.
She looked exhausted.
Almost frightened.
When she saw Detective Morrison...
Her face lost all color.
He held up a photograph from the enhanced video.
"Were you standing behind the patio doors at 8:36 p.m.?"
She froze.
Harold looked at the photograph.
Then at his wife.
"Eleanor..."
She didn't answer.
Instead...
She quietly sat down on the stairs.
Covered her face.
And began to cry.
Not the controlled tears of a wealthy socialite.
Not the graceful tears of someone worried about appearances.
These were the desperate sobs of a woman who had been carrying a terrible secret for far too long.
After several minutes, she finally looked up.
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"I never thought..."
"...he would actually do it."
Detective Morrison's eyes narrowed.
"'He'..."
"You mean Tyler?"
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Then she whispered the words that changed the entire investigation.
"No."
May you like
"I meant my husband."
To Be Continued...
