Chapter 8
Chaos erupted.
It didn’t happen all at once. It started with a sound—a small, choked sob from the youngest nephew, Cody. Then it spread like wildfire.
Diane began screaming. Not words. Just raw, animal rage. She lunged at Daniel, her nails out like claws. Two officers caught her before she got within three feet. They twisted her arms behind her back and snapped the cuffs on. She fought them every step of the way, kicking and spitting, her expensive caftan riding up, her perfect hair coming undone.
“You’ll regret this!” she shrieked. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with! I have friends in high places! Judges! Politicians! They’ll burn your life to the ground, Foster! You and that little bastard son of yours!”
Daniel didn’t even flinch.
Lauren was different. She didn’t scream. She didn’t fight. She went very, very still. Her eyes locked onto Daniel’s. There was no fear in them. No remorse. Just pure, unadulterated hatred.
“You think you’ve won,” she said. Her voice was so quiet only he could hear it. “You think this is over? I’ll get out. I always get out. And when I do? Your son is the first person I come for. I’ll make you watch, Daniel. I’ll make you watch every single second of it.”
An officer stepped forward to cuff her. She didn’t resist. She just kept staring at Daniel. Smiling that cold, dead smile.
Tyler was crying now. Big, snotty, terrified sobs. He was trying to talk over everyone, pointing at his aunts and uncles.
“I didn’t do anything! They made me! Diane said if I didn’t help, she’d hurt my mom! I just opened the lock on the wardrobe! I didn’t know about the poison! I swear to God!”
“Shut up, you little idiot!” Diane screamed from across the room. “Don’t say another word!”
“Or what?” Tyler screamed back. The fear had turned to rage. “You’ll kill me too like you killed all those old people? Like you killed that guy’s wife? I’m not going down for your shit! I’m telling them everything! Everything!”
Perfect.
Daniel watched as they started to turn on each other. Exactly as Marcus had predicted. The moment the cuffs went on, the “loving family” dissolved into a pack of rats fighting over the last piece of cheese.
Jason and Kevin—Lauren’s brothers—were already telling the officers they had “no idea” any of this was happening. They were just “along for the cruise.” They had never seen any forged documents. Never heard any talk of murder.
Tina was crying and blaming her husband, Ray. Ray was blaming Diane. The cousins were all pointing fingers at each other.
Marcus stood in the middle of it all, taking it in with a satisfied expression. Every accusation. Every confession. Every word was being recorded. Every name they named. Every crime they admitted to. It was all going into the file.
It took twenty minutes to get all of them out of the house.
Eleven people. Eleven sets of cuffs. Eleven perp walks down the driveway to the waiting cars.
Neighbors had started to gather on their lawns. They stood in their bathrobes and slippers, staring, whispering. Mrs. Henderson was on her porch, holding Eli’s baseball glove, watching with her hand over her mouth.
Daniel stood on his front steps and watched them load the last of them into the cars. Diane was still screaming as they slammed the door on her. Lauren didn’t look back. Not once.
The last car pulled away.
Silence.
It was over.
Well. Not quite.
Marcus clapped him on the shoulder. “Well done. That went better than I could have hoped. They’re already implicating each other. By the time they get to the jail, half of them will have turned state’s evidence against the other half. We’ve got them, Daniel. All of them.”
Daniel nodded. He couldn’t speak. His throat was too tight.
“Forensics team is on the way,” Marcus continued. “They’ll process the guest apartment. Collect all the physical evidence. Should take most of the day. I’m going to head down to the jail and be there for the initial interrogations. Want me to call you if anything big breaks?”
“Please.”
“Also... the exhumation order for Emily came through this morning. They’re moving her tomorrow. We’ll have the toxicology results by the end of the week. I’ll let you know the second they come in.”
“Thank you, Marcus. For everything.”
The former agent shook his hand. “That’s what friends are for. Now go be with your son. He’s been brave long enough.”
Marcus left. The forensics vans arrived a few minutes later. Men and women in white coveralls streamed into the guest apartment, carrying equipment. Daniel left them to it.
He walked back into the house. It was quiet now. Too quiet. The air still smelled like coconut sunscreen and Diane’s lavender perfume. He opened all the windows. Let the fresh Florida air blow through.
Then he went upstairs to Eli’s room.
The music was still playing. Loud. The boy was sitting on his bed, headphones around his neck, waiting. He had heard everything. Of course he had. The walls weren’t that thick.
He looked up when his father walked in. His face was pale. His eyes were red.
“Is it over?” he asked.
Daniel sat beside him on the bed. He pulled his son into his arms. Held him tight.
“It’s over, buddy. They’re gone. They’re never coming back. I promise you. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”
Eli clung to him. The dam broke. He started sobbing—great, heaving sobs that shook his entire body. Two years of fear. Two years of being called dirty. Of being ignored. Of being a burden. It all came pouring out at once.
Daniel held him. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. He just let his son cry. He stroked his hair. He whispered that he loved him. Over and over.
Eventually, the sobs slowed. Eli pulled back, wiping his face on his sleeve.
“Did they really kill Mom?” he asked.
The question was so quiet. So brave.
Daniel took a deep breath. He didn’t lie. Not to this boy. Not ever again.
“We think so,” he said. “We’re going to find out for sure in the next few days. But yes, buddy. I think they did.”
Eli nodded. He thought about it for a long moment. Then he said something that broke Daniel’s heart all over again.
“At least she doesn’t have to be around them anymore.”
They sat there for a long time. Father and son. Just holding each other.
Eventually, Eli pulled out the baseball glove Mrs. Henderson had brought over. He turned it over in his hands.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, kiddo?”
“About that golden retriever... can we go get him today?”
Daniel laughed. A real laugh. The first one in what felt like years.
“Today?”
“Please. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want something good. Something that’s ours. No lies. No secrets. Just a dog.”
Daniel stood up. He wiped the last of the tears from his own eyes.
“Get your shoes on, kid. Let’s go find us a dog.”
They left the forensics team to their work and drove to the animal shelter on the other side of town. It was a noisy, chaotic place full of barking dogs and cats meowing from their cages. The woman at the front desk smiled when she saw them.
“Looking for anything special?”
“Golden retriever,” Eli said immediately. “Big. Fluffy. Friendly.”
The woman laughed. “I think I have just the one.”
She led them to the back. In the last cage on the left was a young golden—maybe a year old. He was enormous. All legs and fur and wagging tail. The second he saw them, he pressed his paws against the bars and whined.
“That’s him,” Eli said. There was no question in his voice.
They adopted him on the spot. Filled out the papers. Paid the fee. Bought the biggest bag of food they had. A collar. A leash. Three different kinds of toys.
They named him Hank.
Hank rode home in the back of the truck, his head out the window, ears flapping in the wind, drooling all over the upholstery. Eli sat back there with him, laughing as the dog licked his face over and over.
Daniel watched them in the rearview mirror. For the first time in a very long time, he felt something he had almost forgotten existed.
Peace.
They pulled into the driveway around four in the afternoon. The forensics vans were gone. The house was quiet. Normal.
Mrs. Henderson was waiting on her porch with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. She had heard everything. She didn’t ask questions. She just smiled and waved and held up the plate.
Hank jumped out of the truck and immediately ran to her, tail wagging so hard his whole body shook.
“Look at you!” she exclaimed, scratching him behind the ears. “What a sweetheart! You two are going to be very happy together, I just know it.”
They went inside. Eli and Hank immediately claimed the couch. The dog was too big for it, but that didn’t stop him. He curled up half on top of the boy, snoring contentedly within five minutes.
Daniel stood in the living room, looking around. His house. His son. His dog.
It was theirs again. All theirs.
He walked to the kitchen. On the counter, in a small velvet pouch, Marcus had left the cameo locket. The lab was done with it. It was home.
Daniel picked it up. He opened it. Inside were the two tiny photos—Emily on one side, baby Eli on the other. Just as he remembered.
He carried it upstairs to Eli’s room. He placed it on the boy’s nightstand. Right beside his baseball glove. Where it belonged.
Then he went back downstairs. He made himself a drink—a real one, bourbon on the rocks—and sat down in his favorite chair.
Hank raised his head, thumped his tail once against the couch, then went back to sleep. Eli was snoring softly, his hand buried in the dog’s fur.
Outside, the sun was setting. Painting the sky in brilliant oranges and pinks. The same sun that had risen on the worst day of Daniel’s life was now setting on the first day of the rest of it.
He took a sip of his drink.
It wasn’t over, not completely. There would be trials. Testimony. Years of court dates. The pain of reliving every moment of the betrayal over and over again for juries and judges and reporters.
But that was for tomorrow.
Tonight?
May you like
Tonight, his son was safe. His house was his own. The people who had hurt them were behind bars where they belonged.
And somewhere, he thought Emily was smiling.
