Chapter 6 - The Greasy Truth
The revelation about Anna’s car crash hit me like a physical blow to the chest.
I could not breathe.
I could not think.
For two years, I had blamed the rain.
For two years, I had blamed a slippery highway.
For two years, I had told myself it was just a terrible, random tragedy.
But it was not random.
It was murder.
“Who was the mechanic?” I asked Detective Collins.
My voice sounded completely foreign to my own ears.
It sounded like the voice of a man who had nothing left to lose.
Collins pulled up a photograph on her phone.
She turned the screen toward me.
It showed a grimy, rundown auto repair shop on the outskirts of the city.
“His name is Marcus Vance,” she said quietly.
“He runs a small garage near the industrial district.”
“He has a long history of gambling debts and petty theft.”
“Just like your brother.”
I stared at the picture of the rusty garage doors.
That was the place where my wife’s fate had been sealed.
That was where Evelyn’s bloody money had changed hands.
“I want to go there,” I said.
“I want to look him in the eye.”
Collins shook her head immediately.
“Absolutely not, Daniel.”
“This is an active homicide investigation now.”
“You are a civilian.”
“You are the victim’s husband.”
“If you go anywhere near him, you could jeopardize the entire case.”
I stood up from the chair.
My hands were balled into tight fists.
“She killed my wife, Sarah.”
I didn't even realize I had used her first name.
“She took Lily’s mother away from her.”
“I have to do something.”
Collins put a firm hand on my shoulder.
“The best thing you can do for Anna is stay here.”
“Stay with your daughter.”
“Let me do my job.”
“I promise you, Marcus Vance will be in handcuffs before sunrise.”
I looked over at Lily’s bed.
She was fast asleep again.
The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room.
She looked so small and fragile under the thin hospital blankets.
Collins was right.
I could not leave her alone.
Not tonight.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“But call me the second you have him.”
Collins nodded and walked out of the room.
I pulled my chair closer to Lily’s bed.
I held her small, warm hand in mine.
I stared at the blank wall opposite the bed.
My mind was replaying every moment of the day Anna died.
I remembered the phone call from the police.
I remembered the smell of the hospital waiting room.
I remembered Evelyn crying at the funeral.
She had stood in the front row, wearing a black veil.
She had held a tissue to her eyes.
She had accepted condolences from hundreds of people.
It was all a performance.
She was the devil in a designer dress.
Three hours later, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
It was a text message from Detective Collins.
We have him. He tried to run.
He is in custody.
He is already talking.
A cold, dark sense of satisfaction washed over me.
May you like
The dominoes were finally starting to fall.
Evelyn’s empire of lies was crumbling to the ground.
