Chapter 10 - The Shed Behind the Hydrangeas.
The police collected the bottle, but Grant was gone before officers could reach the service road.
Nathan wanted him arrested immediately.
The detective explained that the bottle alone did not prove Grant had placed it there, especially if fingerprints had been wiped away.
Nathan hated every careful legal sentence.
He wanted certainty to move as fast as fear.
By morning, Camille's attorney filed an emergency petition claiming Nathan had become paranoid, had isolated Isabella from her stepmother, and had made reckless accusations against family members.
Attached to the petition was a photograph of the prescription bottle in Nathan's bedroom.
Nathan stared at the document.
"How does she already have a photograph?"
The detective frowned.
The image had been taken before police arrived.
Grant had photographed the bottle after placing it there.
Camille's plan had not required the pills to harm Nathan.
They only needed to exist long enough to be documented.
A hearing was scheduled for the next afternoon.
Camille requested temporary authority over Isabella until Nathan completed a psychiatric evaluation.
Nathan's attorney warned him that the request might fail, but the allegations were serious enough to create risk.
"We need evidence that is simple," the attorney said.
"Not theories, not patterns, not suspicious timing."
Nathan looked toward Isabella, who was drawing quietly at the kitchen table.
"We have bruises."
"Yes."
"We have deleted camera footage."
"Yes."
"We have her missing watch in Camille's car."
"Yes."
The attorney leaned forward.
"And Camille will explain every one of those things separately."
Nathan understood.
A lie could survive if every piece was judged alone.
He needed the pieces joined together.
Isabella suddenly placed her crayon down.
"The little house."
Nathan turned.
"What little house?"
"Behind the blue flowers."
Peter looked toward the rear garden.
A storage shed stood beyond the hydrangeas near the old tennis court.
Nathan rarely used it.
"What about it?"
Isabella's face tightened.
"She put my things there before the bags."
Nathan went outside with the detective and Peter.
The shed door was locked with a new brass padlock.
Peter cut it open with bolt cutters.
The smell inside was damp wood and fertilizer.
At first, Nathan saw gardening tools, folding chairs, and boxes of holiday decorations.
Then the detective moved a tarp.
Behind it stood a small child-sized chair facing the wall.
A roll of silver tape rested on a shelf nearby.
Nathan's stomach twisted.
"Isabella?"
She remained outside with the attorney.
Nathan did not want her inside.
Peter pointed toward the floor.
Scratch marks ran across the wooden boards near the back wall.
The detective photographed them.
Then Nathan saw a pink bead beneath the chair.
It matched the beads Isabella wore at the ends of her braids.
He stepped closer.
On the wall, almost hidden behind hanging garden gloves, someone had drawn tiny lines in blue crayon.
Seven groups of marks.
Each group contained short vertical strokes.
Nathan counted them.
They looked like days.
The detective found a small voice-activated device taped beneath the shelf.
Camille had apparently used it to monitor whether Isabella was crying or speaking.
The battery was nearly dead, but the memory card remained inside.
Back in the house, the detective connected it to a laptop.
Most recordings were static, footsteps, or muffled sounds.
Then a clear voice filled the kitchen.
Camille.
"You can come out when you understand that your father chose me."
A child's crying followed.
Nathan gripped the counter.
Camille's voice continued.
"If you tell him, I'll show everyone the messages we practiced."
Isabella whispered from the recording.
"He'll know they're not mine."
Camille laughed softly.
"Sweetheart, adults believe paperwork."
The detective stopped the audio.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Isabella, standing in the doorway, said something that made Nathan's blood run cold.
"That's not the worst recording."
Nathan turned.
May you like
She pointed toward the laptop.
"The night Mr. Grant came, they talked in there after they thought I was asleep."
