My Son-in-law Moved Me In After My Third “Accident.” I Just Caught Him On Camera Setting A Tripwire In The Hallway. How Do I Tell My Daughter He Is Trying To Kill Me?
But a seed of doubt had been planted. That afternoon, I heard Marcus on the phone in his office.
The door was slightly ajar and his voice carried. “Yeah, the policy is for 800,000.”
“I know, I know, but I’m telling you, it’s taking longer than expected. These things need to look natural.” My blood ran cold.
Policy? What policy? I tried to convince myself I’d misheard, that he was talking about work about some tech contract, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.
The next morning, I asked Jennifer about life insurance. “Honey, do you and Marcus have life insurance policies?”
She looked surprised. she said, “Of course, Mom, we both do. Why?”
“Just curious. Do I need to update mine? Name you as beneficiary?” Her face softened.
she said, “Mom, you already did that years ago, remember, after dad passed?”
“But actually, when you moved in with us, Marcus suggested we take out a policy on you too, just to cover medical expenses, care costs if something happened. It’s for 800,000. Is that okay? We’re paying the premiums.” 800,000—the same number Marcus had mentioned on the phone.
I managed to say, “That was very thoughtful of him,”
That night, I lay awake, my mind racing. A life insurance policy. My repeated falls. Marcus always being the only one home.
The timing was too convenient, too calculated. But I had no proof.
Just a terrible suspicion and a few coincidences. I needed to know for certain.
My friend Dorothy came to visit the next day. It was her first time seeing me since the hip surgery.
We’d been friends for 40 years since our girls were in kindergarten together. She took one look at me and frowned.
she said, “Eleanor, you look terrified. What’s going on?”
I told her everything. The falls, the insurance policy, the phone call I’d overheard.
“Dorothy, I think Marcus is trying to hurt me. But I sound crazy, don’t I? Jennifer would never believe me.” Dorothy didn’t laugh or dismiss me.
She’d always been practical, clear-headed. she said, “You need proof. Hard evidence. Do you have access to a camera?”
“I have my phone, but I can’t exactly film him all day.” she said, “No, but you could set it up. Record the areas where you’ve fallen. See if anything suspicious shows up.”
The idea terrified me. But what choice did I have?
Wait for the next accident to kill me? Dorothy helped me.
She came back the next day with a small wireless camera, the kind you can monitor from your phone. she explained, “My son uses these for his baby monitor.”
“It’s motion activated, records to the cloud. I’ll help you set it up.” We placed it on my bedroom bookshelf, angled to capture the hallway outside my door and part of the living room where I spent most of my day.
It was small enough that Marcus wouldn’t notice unless he was looking for it. Dorothy said, “Now we wait,”
I didn’t have to wait long. The next morning, Jennifer left for work at 7:30.
Marcus brought me breakfast at 8:00. The same routine: oatmeal and toast.
he told me, “I’m heading out for a meeting.”
“Should be back around 11:00. Call if you need anything.” I waited until I heard his car leave the driveway.
Then I opened my phone and checked the camera app. The feed was clear, showing the empty hallway.
At 8:45, I saw movement on the screen. Marcus walked into view.
My breath caught. He was supposed to be gone.
I watched as he carefully poured something from a small bottle onto the hardwood floor of the hallway, right where I would walk to reach the bathroom. He spread it with his shoe, making sure it was invisible but slick.
Then he took a thin wire from his pocket and stretched it across the hallway at ankle height. He attached it to the wall fixtures so it would be nearly impossible to see.
He stepped back, examined his work, and nodded with satisfaction. Then he walked back down the hall and I heard the front door open and close.
His car started. He was actually leaving now, creating his alibi.
I sat frozen, the phone shaking in my hands. I’d hoped I was wrong.
God, I’d prayed I was wrong. But there it was, recorded in high definition.
My son-in-law setting a trap to injure me, to kill me for $800,000. The betrayal was crushing, but beneath it was pure survival instinct.
I had evidence now, but what did I do with it? If I confronted Marcus, he could destroy the camera, hurt me before I could tell anyone.
If I told Jennifer without proof, would she believe me over her husband? I called Dorothy.
“I have it. Video of him setting a trap in the hallway.” she said, “Oh Eleanor, I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I need help.” Dorothy said, “I’m calling my son. He’s a lawyer. Don’t move. Don’t touch anything. Save that video to multiple places. I’m coming over.”
The Trap Sprung and the Road to Justice
Dorothy arrived within 30 minutes. Her son, Michael, was with her.
He was in his 40s, a family law attorney with a serious, competent demeanor. he said, “Mrs. Henderson, show me the video,”
I played it for him. His expression darkened.
“This is attempted murder,” he said.
“We need to call the police immediately. But first, we need to get you somewhere safe. Do you have anywhere else you can stay?” Dorothy said firmly, “She’s staying with me.”
“Let’s get her out of here before he comes back.” We moved quickly.
Dorothy and Michael helped me gather my essential belongings, my medications, and important documents. Michael downloaded the camera footage to his laptop and phone and uploaded it to a secure cloud server.
he explained, “Multiple backups.”
“This is evidence in a criminal case.” We were loading the last bag into Dorothy’s car when Marcus pulled into the driveway.
It was only 10:30. He’d come back early.
His face went from surprise to calculating in an instant as he took in the scene. Me, Dorothy, Michael, my belongings being packed.
his voice was concerned, caring, “Eleanor, what’s going on? Are you going somewhere?”
The mask was perfect. I said, my voice stronger than I felt, “I’m staying with Dorothy for a while.”
“I need some space to recover.” Marcus said, “But you’re in no condition to move. Jennifer and I can take care of you here.”
He moved closer and I instinctively stepped back. Michael positioned himself between us.
he said, “Mrs. Henderson has decided to recuperate elsewhere.”
“I’m her attorney. If you have concerns, you can direct them to me.” Marcus’s eyes narrowed.
he said, “Attorney? What the hell is going on?” Michael said firmly, “We’ll be in touch. Mrs. Henderson, let’s go.”
As we drove away, I looked back to see Marcus standing in the driveway. His phone was to his ear, calling Jennifer, probably trying to control the narrative.
At Dorothy’s house, Michael called the police. Two detectives came to take my statement.
I showed them the video. Their faces hardened as they watched Marcus deliberately creating a hazard in the hallway.
Detective Williams said, “Mrs. Henderson, we’ll need to seize the original camera as evidence.”
“But you were smart to create backups. We’ll also need to investigate your previous falls if we can prove those were deliberate as well. We’re looking at multiple counts of attempted murder and insurance fraud.” I asked, “Will he be arrested?”
the detective said, “We need to build our case first. But yes, there will be an arrest. Do you have somewhere safe to stay?”
