I grabbed my keys off the counter. I didn't care about the detective’s warnings. I didn't care about protective orders.
I was going to end this tonight.
CHAPTER 4
The drive to David’s house took twenty minutes, but to my adrenaline-soaked brain, it felt like two seconds.
His house was a massive, modern monstrosity in a gated subdivision of the suburbs—the house my alimony helped furnish. I didn't bother trying to punch in the gate code. I parked my ten-year-old sedan diagonally across the security sensor pad, jumped out into the humid night air, and slipped through the pedestrian side-gate before it could latch.
I marched up his manicured driveway, my boots slamming against the concrete. I didn't ring the doorbell. I raised my fist and hammered against the heavy oak door until my knuckles throbbed.
“Open the door, David!” I screamed, not caring if the neighbors heard. “Open the damn door right now!”
The porch light flicked on, blinding me for a second. The deadbolt slid back with a heavy thud, and the door swung open. David stood there in a silk bathrobe, holding a crystal glass of amber liquid. He looked annoyed, but beneath it, I could see the arrogant satisfaction radiating from his pores.
“Are you insane?” David sneered, taking a sip of his drink. “Lawson specifically told you to stay away. I’m calling the police, Sarah. You’re violating the order.”
“Call them,” I said, my voice dead calm. I stepped forward, forcing him to step back into his own foyer to avoid a physical collision. “Call them right now, David. Because I’m going to show them exactly how you set this up.”
Chloe appeared at the top of the sweeping wooden staircase, wearing a matching silk robe, her arms crossed over her chest. “David, get this psycho out of our house. Leo just finally fell asleep.”
“Leo,” I repeated, looking up at her. I felt a sickening twist of disgust. “Your four-month-old son. The one you use as a prop to frame me.”
“You’re delusional,” David said, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “I’m dialing 911.”
“Before you hit send,” I said, reaching into the pocket of my trench coat and pulling out Emma’s iPad. I held it up, the screen glowing brightly in the dim foyer. “I want you to explain these text messages to the police.”
David’s hand froze mid-dial. His eyes darted to the screen.
“I have the entire thread, David,” I said, my voice rising in volume and power with every word. “I have the texts where you told our seven-year-old daughter that if she told me about Chloe locking the baby in the hot car, I would go to jail. I have the texts where you manipulated her into begging me for new shoes so I would take her to the mall at exactly 2:30 PM. You planned this. You deliberately locked your own son in a stifling hot car just to stage a crime and take Emma away from me.”
Chloe descended two steps, her face pale. “David, what is she talking about?”
“It’s fake,” David snapped quickly, though his voice lacked its usual commanding boom. “She’s unhinged, Chloe. She spoofed a number to make it look like me.”
“Did I?” I challenged, pulling a second object from my pocket. It was the small, wooden anchor pacifier clip Emma had grabbed from the broken glass in the parking lot. I tossed it onto the polished hardwood floor at David’s feet. It landed with a sharp clatter.
“You told the police the engine stalled when you left Leo to go get Chloe. But Chloe, you walked into the mall carrying the baby carrier at 1:15. You were inside for an hour and a half. So why was Leo’s pacifier clip in the backseat of your car, under a blanket, when David supposedly transferred him from his car to yours at 2:45?”
Chloe stared at the pacifier clip. She looked at David, genuine confusion crossing her face.
“Because you didn't carry Leo into the mall, Chloe,” I said, piecing together the final truth right in front of them. “You carried an empty car seat. You covered it with a blanket so the cameras wouldn't see it was empty. You left the baby in David’s car with the engine running, knowing he was going to transfer him later to stage the incident. But you dropped the clip in the transfer.”