Andrew did not leave the house in handcuffs.
That bothered Amanda more than she expected.
After everything she had seen—the policy, the forged signature, the fake alibi, the abandoned car—some part of her wanted the certainty of metal closing around his wrists.
Instead, Detective Reynolds asked Andrew whether he would come voluntarily to the station.
Andrew said yes.
He said it loudly, as if cooperation itself proved innocence.
“I have nothing to hide.”
Amanda stood beside the staircase while he grabbed his wallet.
He avoided looking at her.
Before leaving, he stopped near the front door.
“Where’s Katie?”
The question landed differently now.
Amanda’s whole body stiffened.
Reynolds answered.
“She’s receiving medical care.”
“Is she awake?”
Amanda felt every nerve sharpen.
Andrew looked at her.
“Is she?”
Reynolds stepped between them slightly.
“That’s not something we’re discussing right now.”
Andrew’s expression shifted.
There it was again.
Calculation.
“She’s my stepdaughter.”
Amanda finally spoke.
“Then why haven’t you asked about her once since yesterday?”
He flinched.
“I have.”
“No.”
“I asked you last night.”
“You asked when I was coming home.”
“That was because—”
“No.”
Amanda’s voice remained quiet.
“You asked about your mother’s party. You asked about food. You asked why I wasn’t obeying you. You never asked whether Katie woke up.”
Andrew glanced toward the officers.
“This is not the place for this.”
“It’s my house.”
He gave her a look she had seen many times.
A warning disguised as disappointment.
Normally it worked.
That morning it did not.
Reynolds escorted Andrew outside.
Amanda watched the black SUV pull away behind an unmarked police sedan.
Then she looked at the dark jacket still hanging on the hook.
The house felt different without Andrew inside.
Not safer exactly.
Exposed.
Like walls had opened and shown what had always been hidden between them.
Amanda returned to the hospital under police escort.
Katie was asleep when she entered.
A nurse had braided part of her hair away from the dressing near her temple. The sight made Amanda’s throat tighten.
She sat beside the bed.
For almost an hour, she said nothing.
Her phone remained off.
Barbara called repeatedly anyway; Amanda saw the missed notifications when she finally checked.
Seven calls.
Three texts.
The first said:
Where is Andrew?
The second:
Police are at my house because of you.
The third:
Call me before you destroy this family.
Amanda read that message twice.
Not before police destroy this family.
Not before Andrew does.
Before you destroy this family.
The old language.
The old assignment of blame.
Amanda showed Reynolds when he returned.
He photographed the messages.
“Has she been located?”
“She’s at an attorney’s office.”
Amanda laughed without humor.
“Of course she is.”
“Officers spoke to staff. She arrived about forty minutes ago.”
“Without the Camry.”
“Correct.”
“So how did she get there?”
“Ride share.”
Amanda looked at him.
“What happens to the car?”
“Forensics is processing it.”
“Was the blood Katie’s?”
“We’ll need laboratory confirmation.”
“But you think it is.”
“The location and damage are consistent.”
Amanda rubbed both hands over her face.
“What about Andrew?”
“We’re speaking with him.”
“Is he lying?”
Reynolds gave a faint, tired expression.
“He has changed parts of his timeline.”
“How many parts?”
“Enough.”
Amanda leaned back.
“Tell me.”
He hesitated.
Then he pulled the second chair closer.
“Andrew first said he left home around four-forty and went directly to the theater.”
“That’s impossible. He was home after five.”
“We know.”
“He bought the ticket at eight-forty-seven.”
“Yes.”
“He admitted that?”
“After we showed him footage.”
“What did he say?”
“He claimed he had originally bought a digital ticket earlier but his phone malfunctioned, so he later purchased a paper copy.”
Amanda stared.
“That makes no sense.”
“We requested the theater’s transaction records.”
“And?”
“There is no earlier purchase linked to his card, email, or phone number.”
“What did he say then?”
“He claimed he paid cash.”
“Of course.”
“The theater does not sell advance cash tickets through the method he described.”
Amanda almost smiled.
Andrew had always considered himself clever.
Not brilliant enough to build impossible stories.
Just clever enough to overwhelm people who were too tired to keep challenging him.
“Did you ask where he actually was?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He says he drove around because he needed time alone.”
Amanda looked toward Katie.
“He drove behind her.”
“We have not established his full route yet.”
“She saw him.”
“I know.”
“Why are you still talking like there’s doubt?”
“Because doubt is part of my job.”
She looked at him sharply.
Reynolds did not react.
“If I decide what happened before the evidence is finished,” he said, “I become easier to fool.”
Amanda looked away.
She understood.
She hated that she understood.
“What about Barbara?”
“She has counsel.”
“She won’t talk?”
“Not yet.”
Amanda picked up her phone.
Barbara’s third message remained on the screen.
Call me before you destroy this family.
“I want to call her.”
Reynolds immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“She might say something.”
“She might manipulate you into saying something useful to her.”
Amanda knew he was right.
That made her want to call even more.
“I’ve spent six years being told I misunderstand that woman.”
“Then don’t give her another chance to control the conversation.”
Amanda put the phone down.
Katie shifted in the bed.
Her eyes opened.
“Mom?”
Amanda stood immediately.
“I’m here.”
Katie looked toward the doorway.
The fear in her expression returned.
“Is Andrew here?”
“No.”
“Barbara?”
“No.”
Katie relaxed slightly.
Amanda brushed hair away from her forehead.
“Do you need water?”
Katie nodded.
Amanda helped her sip through a straw.
Afterward, Katie looked at Detective Reynolds.
“Did you find the papers?”
“Yes.”
“What were they?”
Amanda glanced at him.
Reynolds let her answer.
“They were insurance papers.”
Katie frowned.
“Like doctor insurance?”
“Different.”
“What kind?”
Amanda struggled.
She had always believed children deserved truthful answers adjusted to what they could carry.
Today tested that belief.
“It was money that would be paid if you had a terrible accident.”
Katie stared.
“To Andrew?”
Amanda’s breath caught.
“How did you know?”
Katie looked down.
“I saw his name.”
Amanda felt another piece click into place.
“You saw more than your own name?”
“A little.”
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?”
Katie’s lip trembled.
“He told me it was none of my business.”
“That doesn’t mean you did anything wrong.”
“I thought maybe you’d be mad because I read it.”
Amanda took her hand.
“No.”
Katie’s voice became smaller.
“There was another name too.”
Reynolds moved closer.
“What name?”
Katie thought.
“Barbara.”
Amanda’s skin chilled.
“Where?”
“On a yellow paper.”
Reynolds and Amanda exchanged a look.
The handwritten note.
Barbara—transfer after payout.
Katie had seen it.
“Did you understand what it meant?” Reynolds asked.
“No.”
“What happened after you saw the name?”
“Andrew came in.”
“Was Barbara there?”
Katie shook her head.
“No.”
“Did Andrew call anyone?”
Katie hesitated.
“Yes.”
Amanda leaned forward.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he say?”
Katie closed her eyes.
“He told someone I saw it.”
Amanda felt her heart speed up.
“Exact words?”
Katie shook her head.
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s okay.”
“He said something like, ‘She saw the file.’”
Reynolds took out his notebook.
“Anything else?”
Katie looked worried.
“He said, ‘We have to do it today.’”
Amanda stopped breathing.
The monitor beside the bed seemed suddenly louder.
Reynolds remained completely still.
“Are you sure?”
Katie nodded.
“I was in the hallway.”
“Could he see you?”
“No.”
“Where was he?”
“In the office.”
“Did he say a name?”
“No.”
“Did you hear the other person?”
“No.”
Amanda turned away because she could no longer hide what was happening on her face.
We have to do it today.
Not decide.
Not discuss.
Do it.
The accident had not been spontaneous.
Not if Katie remembered correctly.
Reynolds stepped into the corridor and made another phone call.
When he returned, he spoke quietly to Amanda.
“We’re obtaining Andrew’s phone records.”
“Can you tell who he called?”
“We should be able to.”
“If it was Barbara—”
“We’ll deal with that when we know.”
Amanda looked at Katie.
“She heard the plan.”
“Possibly.”
“She heard Andrew say they had to do it that day.”
“Yes.”
“Why wasn’t she already in danger before she saw the file?”
Reynolds frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Amanda tried to organize the thought.
“If the policy was eight months old and he was printing claim instructions before she walked into the office, then they were already planning something.”
“Yes.”
“So seeing the papers didn’t cause it.”
“No.”
“It only made them rush.”
“That appears possible.”
Amanda felt sick.
She had spent the previous day living inside the same house as someone preparing for Katie’s death.
What had Andrew done before she noticed?
Had he watched Katie eat breakfast?
Asked about school?
Told her to hurry because she might be late?
She remembered him standing beside the sink.
Have you got your shoes?
Do you have your water?
Leaving soon?
The questions had sounded caring.
Now they sounded like scheduling.
Reynolds’s phone buzzed.
He opened a message.
“Phone records.”
Amanda stood.
“What do they show?”
“At 4:24 p.m., Andrew called Barbara.”
“For how long?”
“Three minutes, eleven seconds.”
“That’s when Katie saw the papers.”
“Possibly.”
“Any other calls?”
“At 5:03, another call to Barbara. Thirty-eight seconds.”
Amanda gripped the rail of the bed.
Katie had left shortly after five.
“Then?”
“5:16. Barbara called Andrew.”
“What time was Katie hit?”
“Emergency services received the first call at 5:21.”
The room became silent.
Amanda looked at Katie.
Five minutes.
Barbara called Andrew five minutes before the collision.
Reynolds continued.
“At 5:23, Andrew called Barbara.”
“Two minutes after?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Seven seconds.”
“Then?”
“No more calls between them until 6:02.”
“What happened at 6:02?”
“Andrew called Barbara for six minutes.”
Amanda remembered when she had learned about Katie’s accident.
A staff member from gymnastics called shortly after 5:30.
Amanda reached the hospital before six.
Andrew had claimed he was stuck in traffic and arrived later.
He had stayed only twenty minutes.
Then he left because Barbara “needed help with the party.”
Amanda had wanted to scream at him then.
She had not.
Now she understood why he had been desperate to leave.
Reynolds looked at Katie.
“Do you remember seeing the car before it hit you?”
“A little.”
“What color?”
“Gray.”
“Did you see the driver?”
Katie’s face tightened.
Amanda squeezed her hand.
“You don’t have to force it.”
Katie stared at the ceiling.
“Hair.”
Reynolds waited.
“What about the hair?”
“Light.”
Amanda went cold.
Barbara’s hair was pale blond.
“Long or short?” Reynolds asked.
Katie lifted one hand weakly to her jaw.
“Here.”
Amanda touched her own neck without realizing it.
Barbara’s hair ended exactly there.
Katie closed her eyes again.
“That’s enough,” Amanda said.
Reynolds nodded.
He stepped away from the bed.
Amanda followed him into the corridor.
“You know it was her.”
“I know Katie remembers characteristics consistent with Barbara.”
“And the car is hers.”
“Yes.”
“And the calls.”
“Yes.”
“And the note.”
“Yes.”
“What are you waiting for?”
“Physical evidence.”
Amanda stared at him.
“You already have blood on the car.”
“We need confirmation. We need impact analysis. We need fingerprints. DNA. Location data. Anything showing who was driving.”
“Andrew could have driven.”
“He could.”
“But Katie saw him behind her.”
“Yes.”
“Then Barbara drove.”
“That is one theory.”
“One theory?”
Reynolds’s expression hardened slightly.
“Mrs. Reynolds, if I arrest the wrong person too early, I give the right person time to destroy evidence.”
Amanda looked away.
He lowered his voice.
“They lied about the ticket. They moved the Camry. They hid the policy. Someone is thinking about evidence.”
Amanda understood.
“You think they’re still hiding something.”
“I know they are.”
He returned inside.
Amanda stayed in the corridor.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
She almost ignored it.
Then a text appeared.
Tell the detective to stop digging unless you want Katie to finish what started yesterday.
Amanda froze.
Her vision narrowed.
Reynolds saw her face through the glass and immediately came out.
“What?”
She handed him the phone.
He read the message once.
Then again.
Every trace of patience disappeared from his expression.
“Do not respond.”
Amanda stared at him.
“Who sent it?”
“We’ll find out.”
“You think Andrew?”
“His phone is with investigators.”
“Barbara?”
“Possible.”
Amanda looked through the glass at Katie.
A threat.
Not against Amanda.
Against Katie.
Reynolds was already speaking into his radio.
“We need an officer on this room at all times. No visitors without verification. Nobody gets through unless cleared by me.”
Amanda felt the terror become something cleaner.
Anger.
“They tried once.”
Reynolds lowered the radio.
“Yes.”
“And now they know she’s alive.”
“Someone does.”
Amanda looked at the threatening message again.
Unless you want Katie to finish what started yesterday.
Whoever sent it did not merely know about the accident.
They knew it had been intentional.
Click Here to continue read next: PART7: A Threat Sent to Amanda’s Phone Exposed a Third Person, and the Missing Camry’s Navigation History Led Police Somewhere Unexpected
Amanda Refused to Leave Her Daughter’s Hospital Bed, Never Guessing Why Her Family Needed Her Home Before Morning
Part 6 of 12
