Chapter 5 - JESSICA DID NOT RUN WHEN THE POLICE CALLED
Jessica hired a criminal-defense lawyer.
Also sensible.
Then she agreed to an interview.
I was not there.
Detective Bishop later summarized only what could appropriately be shared.
Jessica admitted the affair.
Fourteen months.
She admitted discussing marriage with David.
She admitted measuring my bedroom.
She admitted choosing curtains while I was still alive.
That part disgusted the detective enough that I could hear it despite her professionalism.
But Jessica denied knowing I had been poisoned.
According to her, David told her the doctors had diagnosed a hereditary degenerative disease.
He said nothing could save me.
He told Jessica I had asked for minimal visitors because I was ashamed of my condition.
Jessica believed our marriage had been emotionally over for years.
Convenient.
Possibly partly true from David’s perspective.
She knew he still shared my bedroom.
She knew I was dying.
She slept with him anyway.
Moral ugliness is not the same as attempted murder.
“What about the $185,000?” Samuel asked.
Jessica produced a contract.
She had been hired to redesign three rooms after my death.
David called it advance planning.
The fee was outrageous.
The contract was real.
The money had gone into her design company.
Some already spent on materials.
That did not exonerate her.
It explained the payment.
Then the packages.
David asked Jessica to pick up “special nutritional products” from a private wellness clinic because reporters occasionally watched our house and he wanted privacy.
She used her own credit card.
He reimbursed her in cash.
That was stupid.
Possibly criminal if she knew what was inside.
She said she did not.
Receipts listed vague wellness descriptions.
Investigators traced the supplier.
The purchases were not the compound detected in my body.
At least, not according to initial testing.
One apparent clue against Jessica weakened.
Then she told Detective Bishop something important.
David insisted she never hand those packages directly to a nurse.
“Why?”
“He said Evelyn hated people knowing she was trying alternative treatments.”
Had I?
No.
David had been building private channels.
Then Jessica handed over her phone.
Voluntarily after legal advice.
Messages.
Photographs.
Voice notes.
Affair logistics.
Months of ugly intimacy.
One message from David:
Use the side entrance. Your care code still works.
Jessica:
Stop calling it that. I’m not her nurse.
David:
Security needs a reason. Relax.
There it was.
He deliberately misclassified her access.
Another:
Bring the packages. Don’t leave receipt in bag.
Jessica:
Why?
David:
Evelyn’s staff are nosy.
Another:
If anyone asks, you were helping with the room because I needed someone to stay while I fed her.
Jessica responded with a laughing emoji.
She thought it was cover for adultery.
Maybe that was all it was.
Maybe not.
Then Detective Bishop asked:
“Did David ever ask you to touch Evelyn’s food?”
Jessica said:
“Once.”
My stomach turned when I heard.
“What happened?”
David asked Jessica to bring a covered tray from the upstairs kitchenette while he helped me change.
She carried it approximately twenty feet.
Did not open it.
Did not prepare it.
Security footage confirmed the path.
The meal had never been preserved for testing.
No conclusion.
Jessica cried during the interview.
Not because of me.
Because she finally understood how her behavior looked from outside.
She had been in my bedroom.
Near my meals.
Receiving large payments.
Planning to occupy my home.
Sleeping with my husband.
If toxicology proved homicide, she had practically volunteered for the prosecution’s opening statement.
Then she asked Detective Bishop:
“Does David think I did this?”
Bishop answered:
“We haven’t discussed theories with him.”
Jessica sat silently.
Then said:
“He keeps records of everything.”
“What kind?”
“Notes. Screenshots. He says it protects him.”
“Where?”
“His private cloud account.”
David had not disclosed one.
Search warrants followed.
The account existed.
Encrypted.
Investigators began the slow process of obtaining and reviewing data.
That cloud folder would eventually produce the Part 10 twist.
May you like
But first, it revealed what David believed I was worth.
And the number was almost funny.
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