Chapter 4 - THE HOUSE JAMES NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT
James had a house in Connecticut.
That was how Chapter Four of my marriage began.
Not with adultery.
Not with poison.
Real estate.
Martin called Ava immediately.
She did not answer.
Detective Rivera told us not to chase her.
Police departments communicate.
Lawyers communicate.
Pregnant wives with broken trust should not become amateur interstate investigators.
I hated every reasonable person in my life.
Ava finally texted.
I CAN’T TALK.
Then:
CAROL THINKS I’M ON HER SIDE.
Rivera asked me to stop replying until law enforcement coordinated.
I obeyed.
For almost seven minutes.
Then Ava sent an address.
Greenwich.
I recognized the street name.
Not because I had been there.
Because Parker Meridian owned a corporate guest property nearby.
At least I thought it did.
Martin searched public records.
The address belonged to Larkspur Residential LLC.
Registered agent: a law firm.
No obvious owner.
“Could be company housing,” I said.
“Could be.”
My phone rang.
James.
This time I answered.
“Where is your mother?”
Silence.
“So the police called you.”
“Where is she?”
“She left.”
“With Ava.”
“Yes.”
“To Greenwich.”
Another silence.
I laughed.
“You have a house in Greenwich?”
“It’s not mine.”
“Whose?”
“An entity.”
“That is the least reassuring answer available.”
“Eleanor, listen to me.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“What was in the soup?”
“I don’t know.”
“You told the hospital I was taking a blood thinner during two pregnancies.”
His breathing changed.
“What?”
“Second miscarriage. Third miscarriage.”
“That was years ago.”
“Good memory.”
“Mom told me you were taking something.”
I closed my eyes.
“You reported medication based on your mother.”
“You were bleeding. The nurse asked.”
“And you never asked me?”
“You were hysterical.”
The word went through me like cold water.
Dr. Patel looked at me.
She had heard.
James continued.
“I was trying to help.”
“Did you ever see me take it?”
“No.”
“Did you ever see a prescription?”
“No.”
“Did you ask Carol why she thought I was on it?”
“She said Dr. Kline knew.”
“Did you call him?”
“No.”
“So your mother told you I was taking a dangerous medication I had never mentioned, and you repeated it to doctors twice.”
“I didn’t know it was dangerous.”
“James.”
“I’m not a doctor.”
“You’re not stupid either.”
Silence.
Then:
“Come home.”
“No.”
“We can fix this.”
I looked at Martin.
He closed his eyes.
Even he was tired of the phrase.
“Where is Ava?”
“I told you.”
“Why does your mother have her?”
“She doesn’t have her.”
“Then why is Ava texting me secretly?”
James went silent.
I heard something in the background.
Office noise.
He was at Parker Meridian.
Of course.
Even with police at our house, he went to work.
“What is the Greenwich property?”
“Company housing.”
“Then why did Ava call it your house?”
“She stays there sometimes.”
My stomach turned.
“You kept your pregnant girlfriend in a company house.”
“Eleanor.”
“Does the board know?”
“That is irrelevant.”
“No.”
My voice became quiet.
“It just became very relevant.”
He hung up.
By afternoon, police had located Carol and Ava in Greenwich with help from local authorities.
Nobody stormed the property.
Nobody arrested half my family at gunpoint.
Ava came out voluntarily.
Carol requested a lawyer.
Officers preserved the packets they could legally obtain based on consent and later warrant procedures.
Ava was taken to a hospital because she was twenty-one weeks pregnant and visibly distressed.
I did not see her that day.
I stayed with Dr. Patel until my bloodwork remained reassuring.
Then Martin took me to his daughter’s empty apartment in Long Island City.
She was working in Boston.
“Temporary,” he said.
I sat on the sofa.
“Everything in my life is apparently temporary.”
Martin placed a glass of bottled water beside me.
I stared at it.
He noticed.
“It’s sealed.”
I laughed.
Then cried so hard my ribs hurt.
Not from poison.
From exhaustion.
That evening, Detective Rivera called.
The confirmatory soup test would take longer.
But the packets recovered from Carol’s purse appeared to contain crushed prescription tablets.
The exact compound was being tested.
Carol’s lawyer claimed she used powdered medication for her own health and accidentally contaminated the soup.
“Accidentally?”
I said.
Rivera did not react.
“We investigate statements. We don’t have to believe them.”
“Did she explain why she stirred it?”
“Through counsel, yes.”
“What explanation?”
“She says she crushed her medication over a napkin, spilled some, then mistakenly added what she thought was a powdered prenatal supplement.”
I stared at the wall.
“That is ridiculous.”
“It may be.”
“What did Ava say?”
“She’s being interviewed separately.”
Martin entered carrying takeout.
I shook my head.
He put it in the refrigerator.
Rivera continued.
“We also contacted Dr. Kline.”
My pulse changed.
“And?”
“He confirms Carol takes the medication involved.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did he prescribe it to me?”
“No.”
“Ever?”
“No.”
“Did he put it in my chart?”
“He says he did not.”
I sat up.
“Then how did it get there?”
“We’re working on that.”
After the call, Martin opened his laptop.
“What are you doing?”
“Public-record search on Larkspur.”
“I thought we did that.”
“I asked someone better.”
Two hours later, his colleague sent documents.
Larkspur Residential LLC was controlled through another holding entity.
Parker Meridian Executive Assets.
Company-owned.
James had been telling the truth.
Technically.
The Greenwich house was corporate property.
Then Martin opened the occupancy records provided in a prior insurance filing.
Authorized long-term occupant:
AVA MONROE.
Effective date:
Eight months earlier.
I stared.
“He moved her in before she got pregnant.”
“Yes.”
Then Martin found a corporate expense report.
Furniture.
Utilities.
Grocery service.
Prenatal massage charges billed as “executive wellness.”
My mouth went dry.
James had not merely been having an affair.
His company had been financing pieces of it.
“That can’t be legal.”
“It may violate policy. That’s for the company to review.”
I leaned back.
“He lied to everybody.”
Martin did not answer.
Then his phone buzzed.
Ava.
He put her on speaker with her permission.
Her voice shook.
“I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
“Where are you?”
“Hospital. They’re discharging me soon.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Why did Carol take you to Greenwich?”
“She wanted me to stay quiet.”
“About the affair?”
“No.”
My eyes opened.
“What?”
Ava started crying.
“About what she said yesterday.”
“When?”
“After you left with Mr. Bennett.”
“What did she say?”
“She was furious.”
“About me?”
“About James.”
I looked at Martin.
Ava continued.
“She said he was getting weak again.”
“What does that mean?”
“I asked.”
“And?”
“She told me James had promised this pregnancy would be the last problem she had to solve.”
My throat tightened.
Martin spoke.
“Did she explain what ‘solve’ meant?”
“No.”
Ava swallowed.
“But she said something else.”
“What?”
“She said, ‘I cleaned up the third one for him. I’m not cleaning up another mess while he cheats badly enough to get caught.’”
The room went silent.
My third miscarriage.
May you like
James had told police he knew nothing.
Carol had just implied he knew exactly what she had done.
