Chapter 7 - SOMEONE HAD BEEN WATCHING
Detective Cole arrived within thirty minutes.
He stared at the tiny camera mounted behind the birthday decoration.
“Don’t touch anything else.”
We searched only with our eyes after that.
There was another device near the kitchen bookshelf.
A third in the hallway.
All three were wireless.
Amy stood near the front door holding Frederick.
Her face had gone completely blank.
“That one could see the kitchen.”
I looked at her.
She pointed.
“The camera could see where I sat.”
The plastic stool was still there.
I wanted to throw it through a window.
Instead, I walked outside.
I needed air.
Cole followed me.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“Did my mother put cameras in my house?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“She had to.”
“Maybe.”
“I want to know now.”
“I understand.”
Cole’s voice stayed level.
“But if we assume too early, we can miss who actually did it.”
That slowed me down.
“Who else?”
“Mason.”
“Betsy.”
“Someone working with them.”
“Someone from the property company.”
He looked toward the house.
“Or someone you haven’t identified yet.”
The cameras went to a digital forensics team.
Within forty-eight hours, investigators traced the registration account.
The email address used was not Teresa’s.
It belonged to a man named Glenn Parker.
I did not know the name.
Rachel did.
“He’s a private document consultant.”
“What does that mean?”
“It can mean almost anything.”
She turned her laptop toward me.
Glenn ran a small business outside Franklin.
He helped people prepare property filings, notarizations, trusts, and loan documents.
He was not an attorney.
He had previously been fined for filing incomplete or misleading documents.
And according to Rachel, he had worked with Cumberland Property Holdings on several transactions.
“Your mother may not have invented this entire scheme herself.”
I stared at his photograph.
“Then who did?”
“We don’t know.”
Investigators obtained records from the camera account.
The devices had been installed five months earlier.
The login history showed frequent access.
Most connections came from Teresa’s home.
But some came from another location.
Glenn Parker’s office.
The videos were worse than I imagined.
No explicit private areas had been filmed.
But the kitchen, living room, and hallway recordings revealed months of manipulation.
Teresa criticizing Amy.
Teresa giving orders.
Teresa going into my office.
Teresa opening our mail.
Teresa telling relatives that Amy was irresponsible.
And Teresa repeatedly asking questions about our finances.
One recording nearly broke me.
Amy was holding a crying Frederick.
He was maybe seven months old.
Teresa stood in front of her.
“You need to stop bothering Connor with every little problem.”
Amy looked exhausted.
“I barely call him at work.”
“He says you call too much.”
“I do?”
“Yes.”
Amy’s face fell.
Teresa continued.
“He’s under pressure because of this house.”
“He told me he regrets putting everything in his name.”
That was a lie.
I had never regretted buying our home.
I had worked for years to afford it.
The video continued.
Amy whispered, “Does he regret marrying me too?”
My mother paused.
Then she said, “I’m not going to answer that.”
I had to stop the video.
I stood up and walked away from the laptop.
Rachel said nothing.
Detective Cole said nothing.
There are moments when rage feels hot.
This was not one of them.
Mine felt like ice.
Controlled.
Heavy.
Permanent.
“What charges can she face?”
Cole answered carefully.
“Potentially identity theft.”
“Forgery.”
“Fraud.”
“Attempted theft.”
“Unlawful surveillance depending on placement and circumstances.”
“Financial exploitation.”
“And conspiracy if we establish coordination.”
“What about Glenn?”
“We’re working on it.”
“What about Betsy?”
“Her role is less clear.”
“And Mason?”
“He’s cooperating.”
I looked at the paused video of my mother standing in my kitchen.
“What does she say?”
Cole hesitated.
“She says she was protecting you.”
I laughed.
Actually laughed.
Then Cole added, “She also says Amy planned to divorce you and take the house.”
My smile disappeared.
“That’s a lie.”
“We know there’s no evidence supporting it.”
“Did Amy ever say anything like that on the recordings?”
“No.”
“Did she contact a divorce lawyer?”
“Not that we’ve found.”
I looked at Rachel.
She shook her head.
Nothing.
Teresa had created an imaginary threat.
Then used it to justify becoming the real one.
That afternoon, Amy watched one of the recordings with me.
Not all of them.
I did not want her to see everything.
But she insisted on seeing enough.
When the video ended, she stared at the screen.
“I sound scared.”
“You were scared.”
“I didn’t realize how scared.”
I took her hand.
“We’re not going back there until you want to.”
Amy nodded.
Then she pointed at the final frame.
“Connor.”
“What?”
“Go back.”
I rewound ten seconds.
Teresa walked out of the kitchen.
A man entered from the hallway.
We saw only part of his face.
He adjusted the camera near the bookshelf.
Amy leaned toward the screen.
“I’ve seen him before.”
“Where?”
May you like
She looked at me.
“At Frederick’s pediatrician’s office.”
