Chapter 6 - THE VOICEMAIL
Mom reached for the keypad again.
Sheriff Brooks intercepted her hand gently.
“Step back from the gate, ma’am, or this becomes criminal trespass.”
Thomas stepped forward.
“This is ridiculous. Our daughter is having an emotional episode.”
I almost laughed.
My father had used that phrase so many times it had become family punctuation.
Sheriff Brooks did not react.
“Sir, the deed has been verified.”
“We lived here.”
“That doesn’t authorize forced entry after written notice.”
More guests were arriving.
A black SUV.
Two sedans.
The catering van.
People stood beside their cars, uncertain whether they should leave.
Mom turned toward them.
“Everyone, please give us a few minutes. Emily has been under extraordinary pressure because of Lily.”
There it was.
Even now.
My daughter’s illness being used to explain away my refusal.
I raised my phone.
“Actually, they should hear this.”
Thomas’s expression shifted.
Mom looked at him.
I opened a saved voicemail.
It had arrived the previous evening from my father.
He apparently believed he had ended the call before speaking to Margaret.
He had not.
The first several seconds contained only movement and muffled voices.
Then Thomas came through clearly.
“If Emily resists, we’ll go in through the kitchen. She won’t make a scene.”
Margaret answered faintly in the background.
“What about the sheriff?”
“He won’t stay all day.”
Then another voice.
A man I recognized as one of Dad’s former employees.
“Where do you want the lock changed?”
The voicemail ended.
Nobody moved.
Sheriff Brooks looked toward my parents.
Then at my phone.
“Send me that recording.”
Mom’s face had gone pale.
Thomas stepped backward.
“That was taken out of context.”
“What context,” Rebecca Sloan asked, “makes breaking into your daughter’s house appropriate?”
Dad looked at her as if donors were not supposed to speak that way.
Sheriff Brooks reached for his radio.
May you like
The event was over.
The investigation was beginning.
