Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO NEVER CAME HOMEI stared at Claire long enough that the hospital room seemed to lose sound.
“A body?”
She immediately shook her head.
“Not a dead body. That’s what I thought at first too.”
I didn’t laugh.
“Then start from the beginning.”
Claire pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
“Three weeks ago, you were in Cincinnati for that conference.”
I remembered.
Two nights away.
“Andrew showed up around nine.”
“At our house?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said he needed to talk to someone who wouldn’t judge him.”
“Why you?”
“I asked the same thing.”
Her voice dropped.
“He said because I understood what it was like to lose something you couldn’t replace.”
That sounded like Andrew: emotional when he wanted access to someone.
“What did he want?”
“He told me a woman had overdosed at one of his company’s storage garages.”
My stomach twisted.
“Who?”
“He said her name was Lily.”
I didn’t know any Lily.
“He claimed she was an employee’s girlfriend. Said she was using drugs, came into the garage after hours, and collapsed. Andrew said he panicked because there were illegal pesticides stored there, so he moved her.”
“Moved her where?”
“He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Was she alive?”
“He said yes. Barely. He said he drove her to an emergency clinic two counties away and left her outside.”
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
“Why would he confess this to you?”
“He wanted legal advice.”
“My wife isn’t a lawyer.”
“No, but I work in hospital compliance. He thought I could tell him whether a clinic had to report something.”
I sat down.
Claire continued.
“I told him to call the police and tell them exactly what happened.”
“And?”
“He got angry. Said I didn’t understand. Then he asked if hospitals kept security footage.”
“Jesus.”
“I told him to leave.”
“Did he?”
“Eventually.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I called the clinic the next morning.”
My head snapped up.
“What did they say?”
“They had no record of anyone named Lily arriving that night.”
The room felt colder.
“So you called police?”
“No.”
I couldn’t hide my disbelief.
“Claire.”
“I know.”
“Why not?”
“Because the story changed.”
She reached toward the bedside drawer and pulled out her phone.
“I searched local missing-person reports.”
My mouth went dry.
“There was a woman named Lily?”
“Lily Harper. Twenty-nine. Bookkeeper.”
“For Andrew?”
Claire nodded.
“She worked for his company.”
I took the phone.
The missing-person post showed a smiling brunette with green eyes.
Lily Harper.
Missing since December 2.
Last known location: Westerville.
Andrew’s business operated in Westerville.
“What did you do?”
“I confronted him.”
“You what?”
“I called him.”
I stood so abruptly the chair scraped backward.
“Claire, why would you confront a man you thought might have done something to a missing woman?”
“Because I didn’t think Andrew was violent.”
“Until tonight.”
She flinched.
I regretted my tone instantly.
I sat back down.
“What did he say?”
“He denied everything. Said Lily stole money from the company and disappeared.”
“Maybe she did.”
“He said she stole sixty thousand dollars.”
The number caught my attention.
“Dad said Andrew was losing money.”
“I checked some public business records and court filings. Daniel, his company wasn’t merely struggling. It was collapsing.”
She showed me screenshots.
Tax liens.
Vendor lawsuits.
Equipment repossession notices.
Andrew’s life had been a financial fire, and none of us had known.
“Lily handled the books,” Claire said. “She may have known where the money went.”
The detective listened to Claire’s account twenty minutes later.
By midnight, Lily Harper’s disappearance had been formally linked to the investigation.
Andrew was now wanted for questioning not only in the poisoning, but regarding a missing employee.
The story expanded faster than I could emotionally process.
Yet one question consumed me.
“Do you think Andrew poisoned the family because Claire knew about Lily?”
Detective Brooks shook her head.
“The food contamination seems primarily directed toward your father.”
“How can you know?”
“We don’t.”
“But the note listed Claire.”
“Yes.”
“And me.”
“Yes.”
“Then maybe Dad wasn’t the only target.”
Brooks looked tired.
“There’s another possibility.”
“What?”
“Andrew might have been trying to make the event look random.”
A mass poisoning rather than a targeted attack.
If eighteen people got sick, nobody immediately asked why one man had been poisoned.
Dad was hidden inside the crowd.
Claire squeezed my hand.
A nurse entered and said she would likely be discharged the following morning if her numbers stayed stable.
It should have been good news.
Instead, I found myself looking at every doorway.
At 1:17 a.m., Officer Ramirez received word that Andrew’s phone had pinged near an abandoned commercial district west of the city before going dark.
Police searched.
No Andrew.
At 2:10, Dad’s condition improved.
At 2:36, my mother fell asleep holding his hand.
At 3:04, Claire finally told me the piece she had kept from everyone.
“There’s something else.”
I stared at her.
“Please tell me there isn’t.”
“Lily contacted me.”
My exhaustion vanished.
“When?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“Christmas Eve?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Email.”
Claire opened a message from an unfamiliar address.
The body contained only fourteen words:
Mrs. Mercer, Andrew lied. I’m alive. Please don’t tell him you heard from me.
Below it was a phone number.
I stared.
“You didn’t call?”
“I did.”
“Did she answer?”
“No.”
“Did you give this to police?”
“Not yet.”
I closed my eyes.
“Claire.”
“I was waiting until after Christmas because I didn’t know if it was really her.”
“Send it to Brooks now.”
We did.
Police traced the email.
It had been created at a public library in Dayton.
The account used no real identifying information.
The number was prepaid.
But the fact that Lily might be alive changed everything.
If Andrew hadn’t killed her, why was she hiding?
And why contact Claire?
At 5:40 Christmas morning, Detective Brooks returned.
“You two should hear this together.”
“What?”
“We found Lily Harper.”
Claire sat upright.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Relief washed through me.
“Where?”
“A motel outside Dayton.”
“Is she okay?”
“Physically, yes.”
“Why was she hiding?”
Brooks looked at us both.
“Because she believes Andrew intends to kill her.”
Claire’s hand found mine.
“What does she know?”
“A great deal.”
Brooks sat.
“According to Lily, Andrew has been moving money through fake vendor accounts for almost three years.”
“His own company?”
“And accounts connected to your father’s business.”
Dad had retired from Mercer Building Supply two years earlier but still held ownership.
“Andrew worked there.”
“Yes.”
“Dad discovered something?”
“Possibly.”
Brooks continued.
“Lily says she confronted Andrew after finding approximately $1.2 million in suspicious transfers.”
I couldn’t speak.
That dwarfed everything we had heard.
“She copied the records,” Brooks said. “Andrew discovered that. On December second, he confronted her at the storage facility.”
“What happened?”
“He locked her inside an office for several hours.”
Claire’s face went white.
“She escaped through a rear window.”
“So Andrew lied about finding her overdosed.”
“Completely.”
“Why did she disappear instead of going to police?”
“She was terrified. She also believes at least one other person is involved.”
“Who?”
“She doesn’t know.”
My thoughts returned to the footage.
Andrew with the dropper.
Dad stirring the stuffing.
A family full of secrets.
“Does she know where Andrew is?”
Brooks hesitated.
“She knows where he may go.”
“Where?”
“A hunting cabin.”
I knew it instantly.
Our grandfather’s cabin near Hocking Hills.
Andrew and I hadn’t visited it in years.
Police teams were already moving.
At 7:12 Christmas morning, they found the cabin empty.
But inside they discovered clothes, cash, medications, forged documents, and three disposable phones.
One phone contained dozens of messages.
Most were between Andrew and an unidentified number.
The messages discussed money.
My father’s will.
Lily.
And something called “Christmas correction.”
But the final message was the one Detective Brooks showed me.
Sent at 6:03 p.m.—nine minutes before dinner.
The unidentified person had written:
You used too much. Get out before they start dropping.
Andrew answered:
Dad got the heavy plate. It’s done.
May you like
The other person responded:
Then why is Daniel still standing?
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