Chapter 3 - The Envelope on the Counter
The manila envelope made a soft rustling sound as Detective Miller tapped it lightly against his palm. The sight of it sent a fresh wave of dread through David, far colder than the panic he had felt moments ago while searching for the inhaler.
"Recognize this, David?" Miller asked, keeping his voice low so it wouldn't carry into the kitchen where Clara was currently rummaged through the silverware divider.
David swallowed hard, his throat dry and burning. He took a hesitant step away from the wooden console table, keeping one eye on the kitchen archway. Lily was still huddled on the floor, her breathing having slowed into a fragile, exhausted wheeze, but she was conscious, her wide, terrified eyes fixed entirely on David.
"I have no idea what's inside that," David whispered truthfully, his hands trembling at his sides. "What is this about, Miller? You just walked into my house uninvited, and my daughter almost—"
"Your daughter almost suffocated while your wife stood there playing games," Miller finished for him, his tone dropping into a hard, unyielding register. He flicked the flap of the envelope open and slid out a glossy photograph. "This was taken by a neighbor at three o'clock yesterday morning. It shows Clara standing outside your detached garage, pouring something from a red plastic container onto the siding."
David stared at the photograph. The grainy night-vision image clearly showed Clara’s long blonde ponytail, her unmistakable white knit sweater, and the familiar silhouette of a gasoline can. A cold sweat broke out across the back of David’s neck.
"That's... that's impossible," David stammered, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears. He knew Clara’s routines. He knew her moods. But this—this was calculated destruction.
"Arson investigation unit flagged the property this morning," Miller continued, stepping closer so he was standing right beside David. "Someone tried to torch your workshop, David. And according to your home security logs, the interior deadbolts were manually unlatched from the inside right before the fire was snuffed out by the rain. Only two people have the master code."
Before David could process the accusation, the sound of light footsteps approached from the kitchen. Clara walked back into the living room, her movements calm and deliberate. She wasn't holding an inhaler. Instead, she held a small glass of water, which she calmly extended toward the detective with a polite smile.
"I couldn't find the spare inhaler in the kitchen, Detective," Clara said smoothly, her eyes locking onto David with a silent, menacing warning. "Must have misplaced it. But I'm sure Lily will bounce back on her own. Children are so resilient."
Miller accepted the glass of water, but he didn't drink from it. He turned his head slowly, looking from Clara’s pristine white sweater down to the child struggling for air on the floor, and then back to David.
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"Well," Miller said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "That's unfortunate, Mrs. Evans. Because I have a warrant to search the entire premises, starting with your personal vehicle."
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