Chapter 3 - A WIDOW BEFORE I WAS DEAD
By morning, Preston had become a grieving husband.
His face was everywhere.
Television.
Online news.
Social media.
The lobby screen outside my hospital room showed him standing beneath the entrance of Ravenstone County Search and Rescue.
He wore a dark gray coat.
Vanessa stood six feet behind him pretending to be nothing more than his concerned executive assistant.
Preston stared into the cameras with red eyes.
“I just want my wife home.”
I nearly threw the remote at the screen.
Richard took it from my hand before I could.
“Your wrist is already broken.”
I glared at him.
“That was going to be worth it.”
For the first time since the mountain, Richard almost smiled.
The reporter asked Preston another question.
“Mr. Vale, police sources say your wife was upset before she disappeared.”
Preston lowered his eyes.
“Madison has been under tremendous emotional pressure during the pregnancy.”
My jaw tightened.
“She has experienced mood changes.”
I looked at Richard.
“He’s making me sound unstable.”
Richard’s eyes remained on the television.
“He needs people to believe you wandered into the storm.”
Preston continued.
“I should have protected her from herself.”
My fingernails dug into the blanket.
Vanessa moved closer and placed a supportive hand on his back.
Too familiar.
Too intimate.
The cameras caught it.
Preston did not move away.
“Turn it off.”
Richard pressed the button.
The screen went black.
“Why hasn’t Detective Cole arrested him?”
“Because your survival is currently our strongest advantage.”
“What if he runs?”
“He’s being watched.”
Richard pulled a chair toward the bed.
“And if he tries to leave the country, he won’t reach the airport.”
There was something in his voice that reminded me he did not become one of the richest men in America by being patient with threats.
A knock sounded.
David entered carrying a laptop and three folders.
“Preliminary audit.”
Richard stood.
“What did you find?”
David looked at me first.
“Quite a lot.”
He opened the laptop.
“Your policy increase was processed through an internal broker channel.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning it avoided normal high-value review procedures.”
Richard’s face darkened.
“Who approved the override?”
“A vice president named Leonard Cross.”
Richard knew him.
I could tell.
“How long has Cross worked for us?”
“Seventeen years.”
“Why would he help Preston?”
“We don’t know yet.”
David opened another file.
“But Cross received three payments totaling six hundred eighty thousand dollars through a consulting company connected to Vanessa Crane’s brother.”
I stared at him.
“Vanessa paid someone inside the insurance company?”
“That is our working theory.”
Richard walked toward the window.
His shoulders were rigid.
“This wasn’t impulsive.”
“No.”
David looked at me.
“This appears to have been planned for months.”
I thought about my pregnancy.
Preston had become strangely attentive after I told him I was pregnant.
Flowers.
Doctor appointments.
Expensive gifts.
He had insisted I stop reviewing our household finances because stress was “bad for the baby.”
I had mistaken control for concern.
“How long?”
David hesitated.
“The first payment to Cross was made ten months ago.”
Exactly one month after the policy increase.
I closed my eyes.
“He was planning my death while pretending to be excited about our son.”
Richard turned back toward me.
His expression softened.
“You don’t need to hear everything today.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Madison.”
“I spent years believing Preston because I didn’t know what he was.”
I looked directly at David.
“I want everything.”
David nodded.
“There’s more.”
He opened the third folder.
“Preston contacted our claims department at eight fourteen this morning.”
I stared at him.
“My body hasn’t even been found.”
“He asked what documentation would eventually be required if you were presumed dead.”
Richard’s mouth tightened.
“He couldn’t wait one day.”
David shook his head.
“He also specifically asked how long an exposure-related accidental-death claim might take.”
I felt strangely calm.
Maybe there was a point where betrayal became so complete that pain stopped feeling sharp.
It became cold.
Useful.
“What did your employee tell him?”
“That no claim can be processed until death is legally established.”
“And Preston?”
“He asked whether an expedited process was available for high-value clients.”
Richard laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“He thinks my company is going to help him collect money for murdering my daughter.”
I looked at Richard.
“How did you find me?”
He became quiet.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“What?”
Richard sat beside me again.
“I wasn’t part of the official rescue team.”
“I noticed.”
“I received an anonymous message twenty-three minutes before the helicopter launched.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What message?”
Richard took out his phone.
He opened a screenshot.
There were only three lines.
RAVENSTONE CLIFF.
SHE IS ALIVE.
IF YOU EVER LOVED ELEANOR, GO NOW.
My mother’s name made my skin go cold.
“Who sent it?”
“We don’t know.”
“Could Preston have sent it?”
“No.”
“Vanessa?”
“Unlikely.”
I stared at the message.
“Who knew about my mother?”
“That list is very short.”
“How short?”
Richard looked at me.
“Until last night, I believed it was only me.”
The baby shifted beneath my ribs.
I touched my belly.
Somewhere outside the hospital, Preston thought he had erased me.
Inside the room, every secret he had created was beginning to open.
That afternoon, another development arrived.
Detective Cole entered carrying an evidence bag.
Inside was a black leather glove.
“We found this near the cliff edge.”
I recognized it immediately.
“Preston’s.”
“You’re sure?”
“I bought the pair for him last Christmas.”
Cole nodded.
“There’s blood on it.”
Richard stood.
“Madison’s?”
“We’re testing it.”
Detective Cole looked at me.
“We also found tire tracks from a second vehicle.”
“Vanessa.”
“Possibly.”
He placed another photograph on the table.
The image showed a silver SUV caught by a traffic camera six miles from Ravenstone.
The timestamp was fourteen minutes after Preston claimed I disappeared.
Vanessa was visible behind the wheel.
Preston sat in the passenger seat.
I looked up.
“They left together.”
“Yes.”
“And he told police he stayed behind searching for me.”
“Yes.”
For the first time, Detective Cole smiled slightly.
“Your husband has started making mistakes.”
I looked toward the dark hospital window.
“No.”
I thought about Preston asking about the payout before my body had even been found.
“He’s not making mistakes.”
May you like
I turned back toward them.
“He’s getting impatient.”
