My Grandson Slipped Me a Note: “Check Storage Unit 247,” He Whispered. I Gasped When I Saw…
Protecting Jake
My 15-year-old grandson had figured out what was happening and had been living with this terror, trying to protect his father. My heart broke for him.
“Jake, I need you to listen to me very carefully. Don’t eat or drink anything Caroline prepares. Nothing. Make your own food, get it from restaurants, whatever you need to do. And don’t let her know you’re suspicious. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, I’ve been doing that for weeks.”
“Good boy. I’m going to fix this, but I need a few days. Can you hold on for a few more days?”
“I think so. But Grandpa, Dad’s appointment with the heart specialist is Friday.”
“I heard Caroline on the phone talking to someone. Her brother, I think. She said something about how Friday would be the perfect time because everyone would just think it was his heart.”
Friday. Two days away. Whatever Caroline was planning, she was going to do it soon.
I spent all Wednesday night researching, planning, thinking. I called an old friend from the police force, Bill Henderson. We’d known each other for 40 years.
He’d retired 5 years ago, but he still had connections. I told him everything. He listened without interrupting.
“Rich,”
He said when I finished.
“This is serious. But you’re right that we need more. Judges don’t like speculation, even good speculation. They want concrete evidence.”
“Here’s what I think you should do.”
He outlined a plan. It was risky. It was going to require me to be a better actor than I’d ever been in my life, but it might work.
The Trap is Set
Thursday morning, I called Caroline. Put on my best concerned father voice.
“Caroline, dear, I’m worried about Thomas. He looked so unwell at dinner the other day. I was thinking maybe I should move in with you two for a little while. Help out, make sure he’s eating properly, getting his rest.”
There was a pause. Then her voice, syrupy sweet.
“Oh, Dad, that’s so thoughtful of you, but honestly, we’re managing fine. Thomas just needs rest. The doctor says it’s probably stress from work. You know how dedicated he is to that firm.”
“I know, but I’m his father. I want to help. Besides, you shouldn’t have to shoulder this burden alone.”
“Really, Dad, we’re okay. Thomas wouldn’t want you to disrupt your life.”
I made my voice wobble a little, like I was getting emotional.
“I lost Patricia. I can’t lose Thomas too. Please, Caroline, let me help. I’m rattling around that big house all alone anyway.”
Another pause. I could almost hear her thinking, calculating.
“Well, if it means that much to you, I suppose it would be all right. But just for a few days. We don’t want to impose on your time.”
“No imposition at all, dear. I’ll pack a bag and come over this afternoon.”
When I arrived at Thomas and Caroline’s house that afternoon, my son answered the door. He looked worse than he had on Tuesday. His skin had a grayish tinge. His hands trembled as he hugged me.
“Dad, what are you doing here?”
“Your wife invited me. Thought I could help out while you’re not feeling well.”
Caroline appeared behind him, all smiles.
“Come in, come in. I’ve set up the guest room for you. It’ll be so nice having you here.”
Watching in Secret
I’d brought a bag with clothes, but hidden in the bottom were three small cameras Bill had lent me. Tiny things, wireless, motion activated.
That evening, while Caroline was making dinner and Thomas was resting upstairs, I placed them: one in the kitchen, tucked behind the cookbook stand with a clear view of the counter and coffee maker; one in the dining room, hidden among the decorative items on the hutch; one in the upstairs hallway, positioned to see the bedroom doors.
Jake knew I was there, but we’d agreed to pretend we weren’t coordinating. When he came down for dinner, he just nodded at me.
“Hey, Grandpa.”
“Hey, kiddo. How’s school?”
“Fine.”
Dinner was uncomfortable. Caroline had made spaghetti and meatballs. I watched carefully as she served everyone. Thomas’s plate seemed to come from a different pot than mine and Jake’s.
When Thomas wasn’t looking, I saw her sprinkle something extra on his pasta. “Spice,” she’d say if anyone asked, but I knew better.
Thomas ate mechanically, barely tasting his food. Jake picked at his meal. I made conversation, asked Caroline about her day, complimented her cooking, played the grateful, oblivious father-in-law.
After dinner, Thomas went upstairs to lie down. Caroline suggested Jake do his homework. Once we were alone, she made me tea.
I watched her like a hawk. She didn’t add anything to mine. Just smiled and chatted about how nice it was to have family around.
“Thomas is so lucky to have you,”
She said, sitting across from me at the kitchen table.
“Not every son has a father who cares so much.”
“He’s my boy. Only child. After Patricia died, he’s all I have left.”
I paused, letting emotion creep into my voice.
“Well, Thomas and Jake, of course.”
“Of course,”
Caroline echoed, but something flickered in her eyes.
“Jake’s a good kid. Smart. Takes after his father.”
“Yes, he does.”
She sipped her tea.
“You know, Dad, I’ve been thinking. When Thomas inherits your estate someday—far in the future, obviously—have you made sure all your paperwork is in order? I’d hate for there to be any confusion or legal complications. It can be so stressful for families.”
There it was. Not even subtle. She was already thinking about my money.
“Oh, everything’s in order. Updated my will just last year with my lawyer, Margaret Chen. She’s very thorough. Everything goes to Thomas, and if anything happens to him, it all goes to Jake. Family first, you know.”
Caroline’s smile tightened, almost imperceptibly.
“Very sensible.”
