Chapter 5 - A Six-Year-Old’s Memory
The magnesium sulfate drip ran for twenty-four agonizing hours, bathing my veins in molten fire while the doctors fought to keep my daughter inside the womb for just a few more critical days.
By Friday afternoon, the monitor finally showed a stable rhythm. My blood pressure had dipped back into manageable territory, though Dr. Mehta warned me that any further shock would send me straight into an emergency cesarean section.
My mother sat by the window, peeling an apple for Leo, who was cross-legged on the floor building a fortress out of cardboard tongue depressors and medical tape.
The door clicked open, and Detective Ray Miller of the St. Charles County Sheriff’s Department stepped inside. He had removed his duty jacket, wearing a plain gray tie and a holster clipped to his belt. Behind him was Clara Morales, the child advocate.
"Audrey," Detective Miller said, nodding respectfully. "How are you holding up?"
"Alive," I said, adjusting the pillows behind my lower back. "Did you arrest him?"
Miller pulled a notepad from his pocket. "Julian Collins is currently being held at the St. Charles County Adult Detention Center on five hundred thousand dollars cash-only bail. Melissa Grant was processed two hours ago. Her parents put up their home in Kirkwood to post her fifty-thousand-dollar bond, but she surrendered her passport and has been placed on an electronic ankle monitor."
"Has she talked?" Sarah asked, stepping in from the hallway holding two large cups of black coffee.
"She hasn't stopped talking," Miller said, a grim smirk touching his mouth. "The moment she realized Julian’s Miami creditors had been calling his office, she panicked. She thought she was getting a wealthy entrepreneur; she didn't realize she was signing up to be an accessory to a multi-million-dollar wire fraud scheme orchestrated to pay off organized crime figures."
"Detective," Clara Morales interrupted gently, stepping toward Leo. "There’s something else Leo mentioned during his debriefing with our child trauma specialist this morning. We think it’s critical."
I looked down at my son. Leo paused his construction, holding a wooden stick in mid-air.
"Leo," Clara knelt down to his eye level. "Can you tell Mommy and Detective Miller what you told me about the blue box?"
Leo looked at me hesitantly, seeking permission. I nodded, offering him a reassuring smile despite the cold dread coiling in my gut. "It’s okay, Leo. Tell Detective Miller. You're safe."
"Daddy put a blue box in the spare tire," Leo said softly.
"In the spare tire?" Miller asked, leaning down. "In the garage?"
"No," Leo shook his head. "In the big black car. The one Mommy doesn't like to ride in."
My breath hitched. *The Audi Q7.*
Julian had bought the SUV six months ago, claiming he needed a luxury vehicle to entertain corporate clients. He had strictly forbidden me from driving it, claiming the performance suspension was too stiff for a pregnant woman.
"When did he do that, buddy?" Miller asked.
"Two sleeps ago," Leo said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "He thought I was watching *Paw Patrol*, but I looked out the garage window. Daddy took the floor out of the back of the car, unscrewed the big tire, and put a blue plastic box inside it. Then he put the tire back and put two heavy suitcases on top."
Detective Miller stood up, his face hardening. He pulled his phone from his belt.
"Sarah, where is the Audi right now?"
"It’s parked in the driveway of the marital residence in Chesterfield," Sarah answered instantly. "Audrey signed the temporary exclusive possession order, but Julian’s attorney hasn't turned over the primary keys yet."
"We don't need his keys," Miller said into his phone. "Dispatch, this is Miller. I need an expedited search warrant signed by Judge Vance for the 2023 Audi Q7 registered to Julian Collins, located at the Wood Hollow property. Suspected concealment of physical evidence and illicit assets."
He hung up, looking back at me. "Audrey, did your father ever hold physical assets in the house? Gold bullion? Bearer bonds? Cash reserves?"
I closed my eyes, searching my memories. My father had been a man of the Depression era, despite his later wealth. He distrusted purely digital banking.
"In the basement," I whispered, opening my eyes. "Behind the furnace room. My father had a safe installed when we bought the house. He said... he told me before he died, *'Audrey, the banks can freeze the wire, but they can't freeze what’s under the stone.'*"
"Did Julian know the combination?" Sarah asked.
"No," I said. "Only I had it. But... three weeks ago, Julian hired a foundation repair crew to 'waterproof' the basement. He told me the smell of the sealant would make me nauseous and sent me to stay at my mother’s for four days."
Miller cursed under his breath. "He didn't waterproof anything. He brought in a safe-cracker."
"Detective," I said, trying to sit upright, ignoring the sharp protest from my pelvic joints. "If my father had physical documents in that safe... the original certificates of trust were in there. If Julian has the originals, he can execute the offshore assignment without Northern Trust’s verification."
Miller was already halfway out the door. "He won't execute anything from a county holding cell. But if he has an associate with access to that vehicle, that evidence could be in Illinois by nightfall. I’m heading to Chesterfield right now."
"Wait," I called out.
Miller stopped, turning back.
May you like
"Take my house keys," I said, reaching for my purse on the nightstand. "And Detective? If Melissa Grant is out on bond... check the house first. She knows where the spare garage remote is hidden."
***
