Chapter 4 - The House They Came Back To
Travis did not go directly to the hospital.
I learned what happened later from Detective Ortiz.
He returned home first.
At 5:47 that afternoon, Travis's SUV pulled into our driveway.
Deborah climbed out carrying four glossy shopping bags.
Lauren carried three more.
Richard was eating something from a paper bag.
They were laughing.
They had spent nearly four hours at the mall.
Travis walked toward the front door complaining that I had not answered his messages.
He apparently said I was probably upstairs sulking.
Then he opened the door.
And stopped.
The living room was covered in evidence markers.
The sofa cushions were stained dark.
Bloodied towels remained sealed inside clear medical evidence bags.
A broken drinking glass glittered near the coffee table.
Disposable gloves and emergency packaging lay where paramedics had worked.
A police photographer was documenting the room.
Officer Jenkins stood near the hallway.
And Detective Ortiz was sitting in Travis's favorite chair.
Waiting.
Deborah reportedly screamed.
Lauren dropped her bags.
Richard froze.
Travis stared at the blood on the carpet.
Then at the soaked sofa.
Then at the tiny newborn blanket Daniel had accidentally left behind.
His shopping bag slipped from his hand.
“What happened?”
Detective Ortiz stood.
“Where have you been, Mr. Brooks?”
“My wife.”
Travis whispered.
“Where’s Natalie?”
“At St. Matthew Medical Center.”
“Your wife nearly died.”
His knees apparently buckled.
He grabbed the edge of the table.
“The babies?”
Detective Ortiz did not answer immediately.
That silence terrified him.
“What happened to my babies?”
“Your daughter was delivered on that sofa.”
She said.
“Your son required emergency surgical delivery.”
Travis dropped to his knees.
Deborah suddenly stepped forward.
“This is ridiculous.”
“She was perfectly fine when we left.”
Detective Ortiz turned toward her.
“You’re Deborah Brooks?”
“Yes.”
“And you were present?”
Deborah's confidence faltered.
“We were going shopping.”
“Natalie exaggerates.”
“Women have been giving birth for thousands of years.”
The entire room went silent.
Even Richard looked at his wife.
Detective Ortiz stared at Deborah for several seconds.
Then she held up a clear evidence bag.
Inside was my phone.
The screen was cracked from where I had dropped it during the contractions.
“You may want to be careful about what you say next.”
She said.
Deborah frowned.
“Why?”
“Because Mrs. Brooks's phone was recording.”
Travis slowly lifted his head.
“What?”
Detective Ortiz wasn't bluffing.
My phone had activated an emergency voice feature when I repeatedly pressed the side button while trying to call for help.
The recording had captured nearly everything.
My screams.
Deborah mocking me.
Richard saying I could wait.
Me begging Travis.
And Travis saying the sentence that would follow him for years.
“Don’t you dare move until I come back.”
Travis's face went gray.
Then Detective Ortiz reached into another evidence envelope.
“And there’s something else.”
She said.
“The front-door camera recorded you locking your laboring wife inside.”
Deborah immediately pointed at Travis.
“I never told him to lock the door.”
Travis stared at his mother.
For the first time that day, his panic turned into something else.
May you like
Betrayal.
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