My Grandson Slipped Me a Note: “Check Storage Unit 247,” He Whispered. I Gasped When I Saw…
Caught on Camera
That night, I lay in the guest room with my laptop, watching the camera feeds on the monitoring software Bill had set up for me.
At 11:47 p.m., Caroline emerged from the bedroom. She was wearing a robe, moving quietly down the hallway. I held my breath as she descended the stairs.
The kitchen camera picked her up. She went straight to a cabinet above the refrigerator, the one where they kept things they rarely used.
She pulled out a small bottle and a syringe. Then she prepared tomorrow’s coffee—Thomas’s special blend that he drank every morning. She added the liquid from the bottle to the coffee grounds, measuring carefully.
When she was done, she put everything away and went back upstairs. I had it. Video evidence of her tampering with Thomas’s coffee.
Bill had warned me not to confront her. Not yet. We needed to catch her with the actual drugs, needed to document the whole thing properly for the police.
Friday morning, the police would be here with a warrant. Bill had already laid the groundwork with his former colleagues, shown them my photos from the storage unit. They were taking this seriously.
But I couldn’t let Thomas drink that coffee.
At 6:00 a.m. Friday morning, I got up before anyone else, went downstairs, and quietly dumped the entire container of coffee grounds down the garbage disposal. Replaced it with a fresh container from the pantry.
When Caroline came down at 6:30, I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper like I’d been there for hours.
“Morning, Dad. You’re up early.”
“Old habits. Never could sleep past 6:00.”
I smiled at her.
“I made a fresh pot of coffee. That blend Thomas likes was empty, so I opened a new one. Hope that’s okay.”
Her face froze for just a second. Then the smile returned.
“Oh, that’s fine. Thank you.”
The Confrontation
Thomas came down at 7:00, looking worse than ever. He’d vomited during the night, he said. Felt dizzy. Caroline immediately went into caring wife mode, feeling his forehead, suggesting he skip work.
“Maybe you should go to the hospital,”
I suggested.
“Have them run those tests.”
“His appointment is this afternoon,”
Caroline said quickly.
“The specialist can see him at 2 p.m. We should just wait for that.”
“I really think we should go now,”
I pressed.
“Thomas, you look terrible, son.”
“I’m okay, Dad,”
But his words were slurred. Whatever she’d been giving him, it was already in his system from yesterday.
“Just need rest.”
Jake came down for breakfast, his backpack ready for school. He looked at his father with undisguised worry.
“I don’t want to go to school,”
Jake said suddenly.
“I want to stay with Dad.”
“You need to go to school,”
Caroline said firmly.
“Your father will be fine.”
“I’m taking him to his appointment later. I’ll drive him,”
I offered.
“You look tired, Caroline. Why don’t you stay home and rest? I’ll make sure Thomas gets to his appointment.”
For a moment, I saw anger flash across her face. Then she composed herself.
“That’s sweet, but I need to be there to talk to the doctors about his symptoms.”
The doorbell rang at 8:15 a.m. Caroline went to answer it, and I heard her voice rise in surprise.
“Can I help you?”
“Ma’am, I’m Detective Sarah Morrison with the Winnipeg Police Service. This is my partner, Detective James Park. We have a warrant to search this premises.”
I stood up as three uniformed officers entered behind the detectives. Caroline’s face went white.
“Search warrant for what? There must be some mistake.”
Detective Morrison held up the paper.
“No mistake, ma’am. We have reason to believe evidence of a crime is located on these premises. Specifically, we’ll be searching for certain medications and documents.”
“This is outrageous! Thomas, tell them!”
But Thomas was looking confused, struggling to follow what was happening. Jake had backed against the wall, his eyes wide.
“Actually, officers,”
I said, standing up.
“I have some information that might help. I’ve been documenting evidence for the past few days.”
I pulled out my phone and held it out to Detective Morrison: video footage from last night, the kitchen camera. Caroline spun to face me.
“You’ve been spying on us in our own home?”
“I’ve been protecting my son. Which is more than you’ve been doing.”
Justice Served
They found everything. The bottle of scopolamine hidden in the cabinet, the syringes wrapped in a towel in the master bedroom, Caroline’s notebook which she’d apparently brought home from the storage unit.
They found the doctored coffee grounds in the garbage disposal. And when they got to the storage unit itself, they found all three boxes exactly as I’d photographed them.
Caroline started talking once she realized how much evidence they had. Not confessing exactly, but trying to justify.
Said Thomas was mentally unstable, that she was just trying to help him. Said the will was legitimate, that he’d wanted to provide for her. Said the medication was prescribed by a doctor, though she couldn’t say which doctor.
None of it held up. The forensics team found her fingerprints on the forged will. Found her brother’s fingerprints too. They arrested him the same day.
Turns out he had a record: fraud, forgery. Served two years.
Caroline had a history too. Once they started digging, two previous marriages. Both husbands had died. One from a heart attack, one from an accidental drug overdose.
Neither death had been investigated thoroughly at the time.
Thomas was rushed to the hospital. The doctors confirmed scopolamine poisoning. Said if it had continued much longer, it could have caused permanent brain damage or death.
They put him on a detox protocol. It took three weeks before he was lucid enough to really understand what had happened.
