Chapter 2: The Woman Who Knew My Password
Detective Brooks asked Vanessa to sit down.
Vanessa refused.
“I have nothing to hide,” she said, setting her suitcase beside the sofa.
“This is a family tragedy. I'm not sure why I'm being treated like a criminal.””
“Then answering a few questions shouldn't be difficult,” Detective Brooks replied.
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“I came here because Marcus needed support.””
I stared at her.
“Support?””
Her eyes flashed toward me.
“Don't do this right now.””
“Don't do what? Ask why you sent a message to my daughter telling her not to call me?””
“I didn't send anything.””
“Then why are you afraid of my phone?””
“I am not afraid of your phone!””
Her voice cracked across the living room.
Detective Brooks watched her carefully.
“Ms. Cole, did you have access to Mr. Reed's phone during your trip?””
Vanessa's mouth tightened.
“He left it lying around. We were sharing a hotel room. That's normal.””
“That wasn't my question.””
“Yes,” Vanessa snapped.
“I could physically access it. I never pretended otherwise.””
I remembered the hotel room.
The open suitcase. The room-service tray. Vanessa sitting on the edge of the bed, asking why I still wore my wedding ring when Danielle and I barely spoke.
I remembered placing my phone on the desk while I went to shower.
I remembered Vanessa picking it up to take a photograph of the two of us.
At the time, I'd laughed.
Now the memory made my skin crawl.
Detective Brooks took out a small notebook.
“Do you know Mr. Reed's phone passcode?””
Vanessa looked at me.
I looked back.
The silence answered before either of us spoke.
“It's six digits,” Vanessa finally said.
“He uses the same code for almost everything.””
Detective Brooks wrote something down.
“Do you know his email password?””
“I'm his executive assistant. I manage some of his accounts.””
“His personal accounts?””
“Sometimes.””
I stepped closer.
“You told me you couldn't access my personal email.””
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
“I said I didn't regularly access it.””
“That's not what you said.””
“Marcus, you're grieving. You are not thinking clearly.””
“Stop telling me what I'm thinking.””
She flinched.
It was the first time I had ever raised my voice at her.
Detective Brooks closed her notebook.
“I'm going to need both of you to preserve your devices and refrain from deleting messages, emails, or account records. We may contact you for formal interviews.””
Vanessa immediately reached for her handbag.
“Are you taking our phones?””
“Not at this moment,” Detective Brooks said.
“But if we establish probable cause, we may seek the appropriate legal authorization.””
Vanessa's fingers tightened around her bag.
I noticed.
So did the detective.
After Detective Brooks finished speaking with Danielle privately, she asked me to step onto the porch.
The afternoon air was warm, carrying the smell of cut grass and someone's barbecue. Across the street, a neighbor watered a row of flowerpots as if nothing had happened.
I gripped the porch railing.
“Tell me the truth,” I said.
“Do you think Vanessa sent that message?””
Detective Brooks didn't answer immediately.
“I think we have evidence that needs to be examined.””
“That's not an answer.””
“It's the only responsible answer I can give you right now.””
I stared through the front window.
Danielle sat on the sofa, holding Lily's stuffed rabbit against her chest. Vanessa stood near the hallway, looking down at her phone.
“Did my daughter suffer?”” I asked.
Detective Brooks' expression softened.
“The medical team did everything they could. Her condition deteriorated rapidly.””
“Was she alone?””
“No. Your wife was with her.””
I shut my eyes.
“Did she ask for me again?””
The detective paused.
“Yes.””
I pressed my forehead against the railing.
A sob escaped me.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered.
Detective Brooks didn't offer empty comfort.
Instead, she said, “Mr. Reed, I need you to understand something. Your daughter's medical records, the original message data, and the devices involved may help us establish what happened. Please don't alter anything.””
“I won't.””
“And one more thing. Don't confront anyone based on assumptions. Let us examine the evidence.””
I nodded.
When I returned inside, Vanessa was waiting by the stairs.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“Not now.””
“Yes, now.””
She took my wrist and pulled me into the kitchen, away from Danielle.
Her grip was surprisingly hard.
“Listen to me,” she whispered.
“You cannot let grief turn you against the people who care about you.””
I pulled my hand free.
“You told me you cared about Lily.””
“I did.””
“Then explain the message.””
“I didn't send it.””
“Then help me understand why someone would.””
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
“Maybe someone wanted to hurt you.””
“Who?””
“I don't know!””
“Did you touch my phone on Friday?””
She hesitated.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“Yes,” she said.
“I used it to check the time. That's all.””
“Why didn't you tell Detective Brooks that?””
“Because I didn't think it mattered.””
“My daughter is dead. Nothing about that phone is irrelevant.””
She stepped closer.
“Marcus, please. We had a wonderful weekend. We talked about a future together. You told me you were finally going to leave Danielle.””
I looked toward the living room.
Danielle was still holding Lily's rabbit.
“Don't say another word about our weekend.””
Vanessa's face twisted.
“You can't erase what happened between us just because something terrible happened.””
I stared at her.
“I don't want to erase it. I want to understand what happened to my daughter.””
For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely frightened.
Then she lowered her voice.
“There's something you need to know about Danielle.””
I went still.
“What?””
“She knew about us long before this weekend.””
“That doesn't matter.””
“She was furious, Marcus. She called me from your office once. She told me if I ever came near her family, she'd make sure I regretted it.””
I felt a cold pressure spread through my chest.
“Danielle never called you.””
Vanessa blinked.
“You don't know that.””
“No. I don't.””
The answer seemed to surprise her.
I stepped past her and returned to the living room.
Danielle looked up.
“Marcus, we need to talk about the funeral.””
The word made my throat tighten.
“Whatever you need.””
“I don't want Lily buried in the pink dress your mother bought her. She hated that dress.””
A broken laugh escaped me.
“She said it made her look like a cupcake.””
“She said cupcakes were for eating, not wearing.””
For one brief moment, we were parents remembering our daughter.
Then Danielle's expression changed.
“There's something else.””
I sat beside her.
“What is it?””
“On Friday, when Lily was in the ambulance, I called your office because you weren't answering. Vanessa picked up.””
My head snapped toward the kitchen.
Vanessa had gone very still.
“What did she say?”” I asked.
Danielle looked straight at me.
“She told me you were in a meeting and couldn't be disturbed.””
The room seemed to grow colder.
“What time?””
“About 2:30 p.m.””
I looked at Vanessa.
She shook her head immediately.
“I don't remember that.””
“You answered my call,” Danielle said.
“You told me Marcus was unavailable. I asked you to get him because Lily was in the ambulance.””
Vanessa's voice rose.
“I answer hundreds of calls every week!””
“You told me you would pass the message along.””
“I don't remember.””
Danielle leaned forward.
“You said, and I remember this exactly, 'Marcus has asked not to be interrupted for personal matters.''”
I stood.
“Vanessa, did I ever say that?””
“No.””
“Did you tell Danielle that I did?””
She looked at the floor.
“I might have misunderstood something.””
“You misunderstood a child fighting for her life?””
“Stop shouting at me!””
I hadn't realized I was shouting.
Detective Brooks, who had returned to the doorway, stepped into the room.
“Ms. Cole, I'd like you to come with me to the station for a voluntary interview.””
Vanessa looked at me.
“Marcus, you can't let her do this.””
I didn't move.
“Marcus!””
She grabbed her suitcase and stormed toward the door.
Detective Brooks stepped aside, allowing her to leave, but followed her onto the porch.
I watched through the window as they spoke beside the driveway.
Vanessa gestured sharply, then shook her head.
Detective Brooks remained calm.
A minute later, Vanessa climbed into a rideshare car.
Before the car pulled away, she looked back at the house.
Our eyes met through the glass.
She mouthed two words.
Trust me.
Then she was gone.
Danielle sank against the sofa.
I sat beside her, but I didn't touch her.
“I don't know what to believe,” I whispered.
She stared at the photograph of Lily.
“Neither do I.””
For several minutes, we sat in silence.
Then Danielle reached into the pocket of her cardigan and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“I found this in Lily's backpack after the hospital called me.””
She placed it in my hand.
It was a drawing made with purple crayon.
A little girl stood between two stick figures. One wore a dress. The other wore a tie.
Above the figures, Lily had written:
MY FAMILY FOREVER.
But beneath the drawing, in small, uneven letters, was a sentence I had never seen before.
Daddy says secrets are bad, but Vanessa says some secrets make people happy.
I stared at the paper.
Danielle's face had gone white.
“Marcus,” she whispered, “what secrets was Vanessa talking about?””
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
The message contained a single photograph.
It showed Lily sitting in the back seat of my car, smiling at someone outside the frame.
The timestamp read Thursday, 6:42 p.m.
May you like
Beneath it were seven words.
Ask your wife what happened that night.
