Chapter 3 - What She Hid in the Garage
The deputies wouldn't let me enter the garage.
That turned out to be a blessing.
I already had enough images in my head.
Deputy Reed went inside with Mendoza while another officer stayed with me.
Dad stood at the edge of the driveway, staring at the garage as though it belonged to strangers.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
Finally Reed returned.
"Emily, do you own a red plastic fuel container?"
"No."
"Any reason your fingerprints would be on one?"
"No."
He nodded.
"What did you find?"
Instead of answering immediately, he asked another question.
"When did Mrs. Hale tell you there was a package inside?"
My skin prickled.
"Right before the mower started."
"Exact words?"
"She came to the hedge and said, 'There's a package for you on the kitchen counter.'"
"Was there one?"
"No."
He wrote something.
"That's important."
"Why?"
"Because we found the mower had been fueled this morning. We also found the blade-sharpening equipment. Your father says he didn't do either."
Dad spoke quietly.
"I haven't used that mower in almost two weeks."
Reed nodded.
Then he revealed something stranger.
There was an old security camera mounted over the garage workbench.
Dad had forgotten it existed.
Years earlier, after tools had been stolen from nearby homes, he installed two cameras.
The subscription had expired.
Or so he thought.
The camera still saved short motion-triggered clips locally.
And at 7:18 that morning, it recorded Diane.
Sharpening the mower blades.
Dad sat down.
Nobody said anything for several seconds.
Finally he whispered:
"Why?"
I didn't know.
But investigators soon discovered the answer might have begun long before Lily was born.
Diane had been searching online.
Not for anything dramatic enough to immediately prove intent.
Instead, the history contained fragments.
Questions about riding mower accidents.
Questions about liability on private property.
Questions about whether homeowners insurance covered accidental injuries.
And one search that made Deputy Reed's expression harden.
Can outdoor baby cameras record sound from far away?
The search had been made three days earlier.
That meant Diane knew cameras were a possibility.
But apparently she hadn't recognized mine.
Dad kept shaking his head.
"I slept beside this woman."
I looked at him.
He finally understood why those words didn't earn sympathy.
That evening, I was allowed to leave with Lily.
I didn't go back to Dad's house.
My friend Natalie picked us up.
She had been my college roommate and the person who had answered my phone call at 2:00 a.m. when Ryan abandoned us.
"You and Lily are staying with me."
"I can't impose."
"Emily."
She opened the passenger door.
"Get in."
For the first time that day, I cried.
Not because I was frightened.
Because somebody had believed me without requiring evidence first.
That night, after Lily finally slept, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then:
"You destroyed my life."
Diane.
I sat upright.
"How are you calling me?"
"You think that recording proves anything?"
I immediately put the phone on speaker and signaled Natalie.
She began recording with her own phone.
"Diane, you're not supposed to contact me."
"You attacked me."
"You drove toward my baby."
"You'll never prove what I intended."
My blood turned cold.
Not I didn't do it.
Not You're lying.
You'll never prove what I intended.
I said nothing.
Diane continued.
"Robert will forgive me."
Still silence.
"He always does."
Then she said something I didn't understand.
"Ask your father what happened to your mother's necklace."
The call ended.
Natalie stared at me.
"What necklace?"
I couldn't answer.
My mother, Caroline, died when I was seventeen.
There had been a necklace.
A small gold locket she wore almost every day.
After her funeral, Dad told me it had been lost at the hospital.
I hadn't thought about it in years.
The next morning, I called him.
"Dad."
"Emily, are you okay?"
"What happened to Mom's necklace?"
Silence.
Then I heard his breathing change.
"Why?"
"Diane told me to ask you."
Another long silence.
Finally Dad said:
"Emily, there's something I should have told you years ago."
May you like
And suddenly the attempted attack on my daughter was no longer the only secret buried inside my father's house.
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