Amanda had never installed a security camera in the garage.
Andrew had.
Two years earlier, someone broke into a neighbor’s car and stole a laptop. Andrew bought a small motion-activated camera the next day, mounted it above the garage door, and connected it to their home network.
Amanda had forgotten it existed.
Katie had not.
“Andrew checks it when packages come,” she said.
Detective Reynolds turned toward Amanda.
“Do you have access?”
“I don’t know.”
“App?”
“Maybe on the household tablet.”
The tablet was at home.
Reynolds sent an officer to retrieve it under appropriate authority, while digital investigators began identifying the camera system through the router information already documented at the house.
Amanda waited beside Katie.
Every minute felt stretched.
If video remained from the previous week, they might see Thomas Keller.
They might hear nothing.
Or they might discover exactly what he had meant by brakes.
Amanda remembered her car.
A blue Honda SUV.
Three weeks earlier, Andrew had insisted it needed brake service.
He said the pedal felt soft.
Amanda had not noticed anything.
He took it to a mechanic himself and returned the same afternoon.
She suddenly felt nauseated.
“Detective.”
Reynolds looked up.
“My car.”
“What about it?”
“Andrew had the brakes serviced recently.”
“When?”
“Maybe three weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“He said some shop near downtown.”
“Keller Auto Body?”
“I don’t know.”
Reynolds made another call.
Amanda stared through the window.
Had Katie been the only target?
Was the policy about Katie connected to something intended for Amanda too?
Her thoughts became so dark she stopped them.
The household tablet arrived ninety minutes later.
Digital forensics connected it to a secured system without allowing it onto the hospital network.
The camera application still held archived motion clips in cloud storage.
Most were useless.
Andrew carrying groceries.
Amanda taking out recycling.
Katie getting her bicycle.
Delivery drivers.
Barbara walking through the garage carrying shopping bags without knocking.
Then they reached the previous Thursday.
2:13 p.m.
A dark pickup entered the driveway.
Thomas Keller stepped out.
Amanda recognized him from the gas-station footage.
He carried a black case.
Andrew emerged from the house.
No audio at first.
The camera captured only motion until Andrew touched something near the wall.
Then the recording volume rose.
“Here?”
Keller’s voice.
Andrew pointed toward the workbench.
“Put it there.”
Amanda leaned closer to the screen.
The timestamp remained visible.
Keller opened the case.
Inside were tools.
Andrew lowered the garage door.
For several seconds, the camera view darkened until overhead lights came on.
“What exactly do you want?” Keller asked.
Andrew glanced toward the interior door.
“Something that won’t look intentional.”
Keller laughed softly.
“That sentence usually means you want something intentional.”
Amanda felt the blood leave her face.
Reynolds did not move.
Andrew lowered his voice.
“Nothing dramatic.”
“What vehicle?”
“The Honda.”
Amanda’s knees weakened.
Her car.
Keller walked toward the blue SUV.
“What are we talking?”
“Brake line.”
“You want failure?”
“Eventually.”
Keller looked at him.
“Eventually isn’t a setting.”
Andrew seemed irritated.
“I want something that could rupture under pressure. Not immediately.”
Amanda gripped the edge of the table.
Katie looked between the adults, confused.
Reynolds paused the video.
“Mrs. Reynolds, I don’t want Katie hearing this.”
Amanda looked at her daughter.
He was right.
A nurse remained with Katie while Amanda and Reynolds moved into a consultation room across the hallway.
The video resumed.
Keller leaned against the Honda.
“Who’s driving?”
Andrew did not answer immediately.
Then:
“Mostly Amanda.”
Amanda closed her eyes.
There it was.
Not imagined.
Not inferred.
Her husband’s voice.
Her name.
A plan to sabotage her brakes.
Keller whistled.
“You’re getting ambitious.”
Andrew snapped, “Keep your voice down.”
“You call me after years and suddenly you’ve got two jobs?”
Two.
Amanda opened her eyes.
Reynolds rewound.
Played the line again.
Two jobs.
Andrew’s face in the recording tightened.
“The first is simpler.”
“Kid?”
Andrew said nothing.
Keller laughed once.
“You’re sick.”
“And you’re expensive.”
“That doesn’t make you less sick.”
Amanda covered her mouth.
Even Keller, a convicted fraudster helping sabotage a vehicle, sounded disturbed.
“What’s the setup?” he asked.
Andrew crossed his arms.
“Accident policy.”
“How much?”
“Quarter million.”
“Worth risking murder for that?”
“It’s not murder if nobody can prove it.”
Amanda felt Reynolds glance at her.
She could not look away from the screen.
Keller shook his head.
“You learned absolutely nothing from Melissa.”
The room became silent.
Andrew’s expression changed instantly.
“Don’t say that name.”
“Why? She can’t hear us.”
“You were paid to keep your mouth shut.”
Amanda stopped breathing.
Keller smiled.
“And I did.”
“You’re still being paid.”
“Not enough for this.”
Melissa.
Andrew’s first wife.
The woman whose car had left a rural highway.
The woman whose $300,000 insurance policy had paid Andrew.
Keller had been there too.
Reynolds paused the video and immediately contacted another investigator.
“Reopen the Grant case. Preserve everything. Keller just implicated himself and Andrew on recording.”
Amanda stared at the frozen image.
Seven years of Andrew’s past had just changed in under ten seconds.
He had told her Melissa left him.
He had not merely lied about the divorce.
He had erased a dead woman from his life.
The video resumed.
Keller crossed his arms.
“I handled the car once. That was supposed to be it.”
Andrew said, “This is different.”
“It’s exactly the same.”
“No. Melissa was unpredictable.”
“And the kid isn’t?”
“She has a schedule.”
Amanda’s fingers dug into the chair.
A schedule.
Gymnastics.
Walking route.
Same intersection.
Same time.
Andrew continued.
“Mom drives through. I make sure Katie steps out when she needs to.”
Keller stared at him.
“Your mother knows?”
“She’s part of it.”
“How much does she get?”
“Fifty.”
“Out of two-fifty?”
“She has debt.”
Keller laughed.
“Everybody has debt.”
“She’ll do it.”
“And Amanda?”
Andrew did not answer.
Keller looked toward the Honda.
“She gets her own accident later?”
Amanda felt as if she had left her body.
Andrew’s reply was quiet.
“If necessary.”
Reynolds paused the recording again.
Amanda stood abruptly and walked to the far wall.
For several seconds she could not speak.
“If necessary.”
The phrase replayed in her head.
Not anger.
Not passion.
Not a moment of rage.
Andrew had discussed her death as a contingency.
A problem-solving option.
Reynolds approached but did not touch her.
“Do you need a minute?”
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“Play it.”
He hesitated.
“Play it.”
The recording continued.
Keller asked, “What’s Amanda worth?”
Andrew leaned against the workbench.
“More.”
“How much?”
“Seven-fifty.”
Amanda felt the floor shift.
A life insurance policy.
On her.
She knew about one through Andrew’s employer.
$150,000.
Not $750,000.
There had to be another.
“Policies?” Keller asked.
“Combined.”
“Does she know?”
Andrew smiled.
“No.”
Amanda looked away.
That smile.
The same expression Katie had described at the crosswalk.
The same mild, controlled smile Andrew used whenever he believed everyone else was several steps behind him.
Keller opened his case.
“You’re going to get caught.”
“No.”
“You always say that.”
“Melissa looked like an accident.”
“Melissa almost didn’t.”
Andrew’s smile disappeared.
Keller continued.
“Your mother panicked.”
“She won’t this time.”
“Barbara panics when a waiter brings the wrong salad.”
“Which is why you’re helping.”
Keller crouched beside Amanda’s Honda.
His hands disappeared near the wheel well.
The video ended twelve minutes later.
Reynolds sat silently.
Amanda stared at the blank screen.
“So there it is.”
“Yes.”
“He killed Melissa.”
“The recording strongly suggests he and Keller were involved in her death.”
“And Barbara.”
“Possibly.”
“She panicked.”
“That could refer to several things.”
Amanda almost laughed.
“You’re still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Refusing to say what’s in front of you.”
Reynolds looked at her.
Then, for the first time, he changed his wording.
“Andrew appears to have participated in Melissa Grant’s death. He appears to have planned Katie’s death with Barbara and Keller. And he appears to have discussed causing your death afterward.”
Amanda sat slowly.
Hearing it directly was worse.
But it was also strangely clarifying.
No more maybes.
No more family excuses.
No more wondering whether she was being unfair.
“What happens now?”
“We arrest Andrew.”
“And Barbara?”
“We’re building probable cause.”
“You have her car.”
“We have more than that now.”
“Keller?”
“We’re locating him.”
Amanda immediately thought of the threatening message.
“What if he knows you found the recording?”
“He shouldn’t.”
“He could be watching.”
“We’re moving fast.”
Reynolds stood.
Amanda looked at the screen again.
“Why would Keller leave that camera running?”
“Maybe he didn’t know it recorded audio.”
“Andrew installed it.”
“He may have forgotten it existed or assumed the footage overwrote quickly.”
Amanda thought of how confident Andrew had always been.
Confidence created carelessness.
Especially when someone had escaped consequences before.
Reynolds’s radio crackled.
A voice requested him urgently.
He answered.
Amanda heard fragments.
Andrew.
Interview room.
Attorney.
Leaving.
Reynolds’s face hardened.
“Keep him there if legally possible. I’m bringing the probable-cause package now.”
He ended the transmission.
“He’s trying to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Can you stop him?”
“Now we can.”
Amanda followed him toward the door.
“Detective.”
He turned.
“Arrest him before he reaches Katie.”
“That’s the plan.”
“No.”
Amanda stepped closer.
“Promise me.”
Reynolds looked at her.
“He will not get near her.”
Then he left.
Amanda returned to Katie.
Her daughter had awakened.
“Did you find the video?”
Amanda sat beside her.
“Yes.”
“Was the man bad?”
Amanda thought about Thomas Keller.
A criminal.
A conspirator.
Someone who had helped sabotage her car and apparently helped kill another woman.
But also someone whose loose tongue had left evidence Andrew never expected.
“Yes,” Amanda said. “He did bad things.”
“Andrew too?”
Amanda took Katie’s hand.
“Yes.”
Katie’s eyes filled.
“Barbara?”
Amanda could not lie.
“Yes.”
Katie turned toward the window.
For a ten-year-old, betrayal had simpler edges.
People were either safe or unsafe.
Good or bad.
Adults complicated things until truth became exhausting.
Amanda envied her daughter’s clarity.
Her phone was still with investigators, but the officer outside the room suddenly stepped inside.
“Mrs. Reynolds?”
Amanda stood.
His expression told her something had happened.
“What?”
“Detective Reynolds asked me to move you and Katie immediately.”
“Why?”
“We intercepted a call.”
“What call?”
“From Andrew.”
Amanda’s heart pounded.
“To who?”
The officer looked toward Katie.
“Thomas Keller.”
Amanda felt ice move through her chest.
“What did he say?”
“He told Keller the police had the garage footage.”
“How does Andrew know?”
“We don’t know.”
The officer continued.
“He also told Keller to get to the hospital before police reached him.”
Amanda looked at Katie.
“Why?”
The officer’s jaw tightened.
“Because Andrew said Katie is the only witness who can put him at the crosswalk.”
Amanda moved to the bed.
“We’re leaving now.”
Nurses entered.
Katie’s monitors were disconnected from the wall and transferred to portable equipment.
Amanda stayed beside her.
“What’s happening?” Katie asked.
“We’re moving rooms.”
“Why?”
“So you stay safe.”
They pushed Katie through a service corridor instead of the public hall.
Two officers moved ahead.
Another followed.
Amanda walked beside the bed holding Katie’s hand.
Elevator doors opened.
They entered.
The doors closed.
For three floors, no one spoke.
Then the elevator stopped.
The doors opened onto a secure medical floor.
An officer stepped out first.
He stopped.
Someone was standing at the far end of the corridor.
A man in hospital scrubs.
He wore a surgical mask.
But Amanda recognized his eyes from the gas-station video.
Thomas Keller.
He looked at the officers.
Then at Katie.
And ran.
Click Here to continue read next: PART9: Keller Ran Through the Hospital With Police Behind Him, Leaving One Abandoned Phone That Revealed Who Had Sent Amanda the Threat
Amanda Refused to Leave Her Daughter’s Hospital Bed, Never Guessing Why Her Family Needed Her Home Before Morning
Part 8 of 12
