Chapter 3 - The Man Emily Feared
I had spent years learning how to react to danger.
My training taught me to read body language, watch hands, control my breathing, and never allow someone else's panic to dictate my decisions.
None of that prepared me for hearing my dead husband’s name in my daughter's hospital room.
“Dad?” I repeated.
Emily nodded.
“Your father.”
“My husband is dead.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
She started crying.
“I don't mean Dad like he came back.”
“Then what do you mean?”
She wiped her face.
“His name.”
I looked at Reyes.
He had gone completely still.
“What about his name?”
“It's in the recordings.”
I sat down.
“My husband died six years ago.”
“I know.”
“Then why would his name be on a recording in the Prescott house?”
Emily shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Reyes spoke gently.
“Emily, start from the beginning.”
She did.
Three weeks before she married Ethan, she had found a locked cabinet in Margaret's office.
Inside were files.
Not financial files.
Personal files.
Photographs.
Psychological evaluations.
Police reports.
Divorce records.
Medical documents.
And handwritten notes.
She recognized several names.
One of them was my husband.
Colonel David Hart.
My husband had worked in defense procurement before leaving the military.
He had died of what the doctors called a sudden cardiac event.
At the time, I had accepted it.
I had no reason not to.
Until Emily said one sentence.
“His name was next to a photograph of Margaret Prescott.”
I felt something inside me crack.
“When?”
“Six months before he died.”
Reyes looked at me.
“Did you know your husband knew the Prescotts?”
“No.”
Emily nodded.
“That was why I started recording.”
I stared at her.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Ethan told me you'd never believe me.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
She closed her eyes.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of Ethan?”
“Of what Ethan would do if he knew I'd told you.”
I stood.
“I should have known.”
“No.”
“I should have seen something.”
“Mom.”
“I trained women to notice threats.”
She reached for my hand.
“You're my mom.”
“That's exactly why I should have seen it.”
Reyes interrupted.
“Colonel, self-blame isn't helping.”
I looked at him.
“You know who my husband was?”
He hesitated.
“Some.”
“How much?”
“Enough to understand why the Prescott family may be worried.”
“What did he have to do with them?”
Reyes took out his phone.
“Before I answer that, I need to tell you something.”
He showed me a photograph.
It was my husband.
Standing beside Margaret Prescott.
Both were smiling.
The date was printed beneath it.
Six months before his death.
I felt dizzy.
“I've never seen this.”
“There are twenty-seven photographs.”
“Where did you get them?”
“From a federal archive.”
“Why?”
“Because David Hart was questioned during an earlier investigation involving Prescott Holdings.”
I stared at him.
“Why wasn't I told?”
Reyes's expression changed.
“Because the inquiry was sealed.”
“Why?”
“National security.”
The words landed heavily.
Emily looked between us.
“So Dad really was involved.”
Reyes nodded.
“In what?”
“I don't know yet.”
“You said you knew.”
“I said I knew enough to be concerned.”
I walked toward the window.
Charlotte's lights flickered below.
My entire understanding of my marriage had shifted.
A hospital security officer entered.
“Colonel Hart?”
“Yes?”
“We need you downstairs.”
“Why?”
“Your car was broken into.”
My heart dropped.
“What?”
“Someone smashed the passenger window.”
I looked at Emily.
“What was in the car?”
“My military bag.”
Reyes stood immediately.
“What was inside?”
“My service pistol was locked in a case.”
He stared at me.
“Where is the weapon now?”
“I don't know.”
Reyes's face hardened.
“Then this just became much more dangerous.”
We moved toward the elevator.
When the doors opened, a man was standing inside.
Gray suit.
Silver hair.
Dr. Nathan Lang.
He smiled.
“Colonel Hart.”
I stepped back.
“You.”
He looked at Emily.
“Mrs. Prescott.”
She recoiled.
Reyes stepped between us.
“You are not authorized to approach this patient.”
Lang smiled.
“I am her physician.”
“No, you're not.”
Lang's eyes moved to me.
“You should ask your daughter what she did before you decide who to trust.”
I stepped closer.
“You've been manipulating women for Margaret Prescott.”
His smile faded.
“That's a serious accusation.”
“You've fabricated psychiatric evaluations.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I will.”
He leaned toward me.
“Your husband tried.”
My blood ran cold.
“What did you say?”
Lang's voice became almost a whisper.
“David Hart knew exactly who Margaret was.”
I grabbed his collar.
Reyes pulled me away.
“Colonel.”
Lang straightened his jacket.
“I wondered when you'd start asking the right questions.”
He walked past us.
I stared after him.
“Why would he know my husband?”
Reyes didn't answer.
Emily did.
“Because Dad wasn't investigating Margaret.”
I turned.
“Then who was he investigating?”
Emily's face was white.
“Us.”
I frowned.
“Who is us?”
May you like
She looked directly at me.
“The Army.”
