My Son Drank Poison To Save My Life And Trap His Evil Wife. He Knew It Was Lethal But Did It To Get Evidence. Now She’s Facing 8 Years And I’m Left With The Heartbreaking Truth.

I stepped out of the house, walked over, and tried to keep my face neutral. James pointed to the joints where the ladder’s two sections overlapped. “these bolts are barely holding the safety pins are gone this whole loadbearing joint is compromised”

He demonstrated by applying pressure to one side and the ladder wobbled more than it should have, way more. “if anyone climbed this thing past the halfway point” James said with his voice hard “it would collapse and from this height we’re talking serious injury broken bones worse”

I looked at Oilia. She was standing with her arms crossed and her jaw set. “i don’t understand” I said keeping my voice confused.

“oilia was the ladder like this when you got it out” She hesitated just for a second then she shook her head. “i I don’t know it was fine the last time I used it it must have been like that already i grabbed it from our garage maybe it’s been sitting too long maybe something rusted or”

“Oilia” James interrupted. He crouched down by the ladder and ran his finger along one of the bolt heads.

“look at this” He stood and held his finger up for us to see. “fresh metal dust these scratches are new tool marks see where the wrench gripped these bolts were loosened intentionally recently”

The air went still as Oilia’s face flushed. “what are you saying” “i’m saying someone sabotaged this ladder are you”

Her voice rose and shook. “are you accusing me of something” James didn’t answer but just looked at her.

Oilia turned to me and I watched her eyes fill with tears, real tears or a damn good imitation. “dad” she said with her voice breaking “you can’t think I would after Matthew almost died you think I’d try to hurt you”

I looked at her for a long moment then I said very calmly, “i think you should go home Oilia” Her face twisted.

“you’re going to believe him over me i’m your son’s wife i’m family” “go” I said.

She stared at me then she grabbed her tool bag, yanked it off the ground, and turned to James. “matthew is going to hear about this the way you people treated me” “drive carefully” I said.

She threw the tool bag into the back seat of her car, grabbed the ladder, and shoved it onto the roof rack without strapping it properly. The engine roared to life as she got in. She reversed hard with tires squealing and sped out of the driveway.

James and I stood there in the sudden silence. “chris” he said finally “what the hell is going on”

I walked back into the house, grabbed my phone from the windowsill, and came back out. “i recorded the whole thing” I pulled up the video and handed him the phone.

James watched and his face went pale. “jesus Christ” he whispered.

On the screen Oilia’s hands moved methodically over the ladder joints: wrench, bolts, safety pins, every second crystal clear. James handed the phone back. “this is attempted murder you need to call the police”

“not yet chris I need more than this or she just tried to i need enough proof that Matthew will believe me” I said. “if I go to him with just this she’ll cry she’ll say it’s a misunderstanding she’ll say the ladder was already broken and she didn’t notice he loves her James he’ll want to believe her version”

James stared at me. “and what if she tries something else while you’re waiting” “then I’ll be ready chris I won’t go to my son with half a story” I said.

“i need proof so overwhelming he can’t ignore it” James shook his head. “you’re taking a hell of a risk” “i know”

He left a few minutes later and told me to call him if I needed anything or to be careful. I stood alone in my driveway with the phone in my hand. I had the lab results proving she’d poisoned my drink and the financial records showing her desperate debt.

I had the internet search history about inheritance and incapacity and now I had video of her sabotaging a ladder. She had tried to cause me serious injury or worse. But James was right about one thing: she just tried again.

Desperate calculating people like Oilia didn’t stop until they succeeded or until they were stopped. I needed something irrefutable, something even love, even Matthew’s love for his wife, couldn’t blind him to.

The PI’s Revelation

Denise Morgan called me early Tuesday morning, 4 days after the ladder incident. Her voice had a tone I’d never heard before: urgency mixed with confusion. “chris we need to talk about Clare Davidson can you come to my office this isn’t something I can explain over the phone”

I grabbed my keys. “i’ll be there in 20 minutes” Before I tell you the truth about Claire Davidson I need to hear from you.

What do you think is really happening here and what’s her real role in all of this? Comment below with your theory as I want to see who figured it out. Quick reminder: what follows contains some fictionalized details for educational purposes; you can exit now if you prefer.

Denise had a thick file folder on her desk when I walked in with her laptop open beside it. She didn’t waste time. “we I ran a full background check on Clare Davidson like you asked”

I sat down. “and she’s helping Oilia right” Denise hesitated and looked at me carefully.

“not exactly” “what do you mean not exactly” “chris Claire Davidson is a licensed private investigator”

The words didn’t register at first as I stared at her. “what” She turned the laptop around.

On the screen was a professional licensing database. Claire Davidson, private investigator, license number 47,832, status active, years in business 15. Below that were business registration documents and a business address in Southeast Portland.

Client reviews were there, dozens of them and all five stars. She had membership in the Oregon Association of Licensed Investigators. Her specialties were domestic cases, infidelity investigations, financial fraud, and asset tracking.

“i don’t understand” I said slowly. “i saw them together at that coffee shop they were meeting planning something”

“that’s what confused me too” Denise said. “why would a private investigator be meeting with Oilia so I kept digging”

She pulled a stack of bank statements from the file and slid them across the desk. “look at this” Three months ago, on March 15th, I scanned the page.

A payment to Claire Davidson Investigations for $5,000 was listed as a retainer. The account holder made my chest tighten: Matthew Sullivan. It was not a joint account or one Oilia had access to.

It was Matthew’s personal checking account at his teacher’s credit union, the one he’d had since before they got married. “matthew hired her” I said as my voice sounded far away.

“three months before your housewarming party” I looked up at Denise. “why didn’t he tell me”