PART 4 — THE DEAD WIFE AT MY DOOR
The smell of gas thickened instantly.
Detective Collins grabbed my arm before I could touch the light switch.
“Don’t turn on anything,” she ordered. “No lights. No phones. Nothing that could create a spark.”
Brooke began coughing.
Evelyn stood frozen beside the kitchen island, staring toward the darkened hallway.
The knocking at the back door came again.
Three slow knocks.
Then a woman’s voice called through the glass.
“Laura, don’t open the front door!”
My heart stopped.
It was the same voice speaking through my phone.
Natalie.
Detective Collins drew her weapon.
“Everyone move away from the windows.”
Outside, Detective Hill was still standing beside the police car. Kevin sat handcuffed in the back seat, watching the house.
I could barely see his face through the darkness.
But I could see his smile.
“He knows,” I whispered.
Detective Collins followed my gaze.
“Knows what?”
“Whatever is happening, he expected it.”
Another knock struck the back door.
“Laura!” Natalie shouted. “The front porch is wired!”
Detective Collins moved toward the kitchen.
“How do you know that?”
“Because Kevin used the same plan on me!”
Evelyn made a choking sound.
Brooke covered her mouth.
Detective Collins kept her weapon pointed at the door.
“Step away from the entrance and place both hands where I can see them!”
A shadow moved behind the glass.
“I can shut off the gas,” Natalie said. “But you need to unlock the door.”
“No,” Evelyn whispered.
I turned toward her.
“Why not?”
She shook her head so violently that her earrings struck her cheeks.
“That woman is not Natalie.”
The figure outside went still.
I looked from Evelyn to the door.
“How would you know?”
“Because Natalie is dead.”
“You already admitted she survived.”
“I admitted nothing. Brooke said she sent money to someone using Natalie’s name.”
The phone was still pressed against my ear.
The woman on the line whispered, “Evelyn is stalling.”
“Stalling for what?”
A faint clicking sound came from somewhere inside the house.
Detective Collins heard it too.
“What is that?”
Click.
Click.
Click.
The sound came from beneath the kitchen sink.
Brooke stepped backward.
“Is that a timer?”
Detective Collins lowered herself carefully and opened the cabinet without touching any switches.
Behind the cleaning supplies was a small black device connected to the electrical outlet.
Red numbers glowed across its screen.
02:14
02:13
02:12
“We need to leave now,” she said.
“The front porch is wired,” I reminded her.
“We’ll use the back.”
Evelyn grabbed her arm.
“You cannot let that woman inside.”
Detective Collins pulled away.
“We don’t have time for this.”
The woman outside shouted, “There’s a manual valve beside the air-conditioning unit. I can shut it off, but the gate is locked.”
Our back gate had never locked properly.
Kevin’s notes had said so.
But three days earlier, he had suddenly repaired it.
At the time, I thought he was being responsible.
Now I understood.
He wanted whoever came to the house trapped outside.
Or he wanted us trapped inside.
Detective Collins pointed at Brooke.
“Where are the keys?”
“I don’t know.”
I ran toward the small drawer beside the refrigerator.
The back-gate key normally hung from a brass hook inside it.
The hook was empty.
Kevin had taken it.
The timer reached one minute and fifty seconds.
“There’s another exit through the garage,” Brooke said.
“No,” Evelyn answered quickly.
Too quickly.
Detective Collins looked at her.
“Why not?”
Evelyn stared at the floor.
The detective stepped closer.
“What is in the garage?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know.”
“I swear—”
Detective Collins grabbed Evelyn by the shoulders.
“Your son planted something inside this house. If you know anything that can help us, speak now.”
Evelyn’s lips trembled.
“Kevin asked me to leave a gasoline can beside the water heater.”
My entire body went cold.
“When?” I asked.
“This morning.”
“You came into my house this morning?”
“He gave me the spare key.”
“Why would you put gasoline beside my water heater?”
“He said he needed evidence that Laura had been storing fuel improperly.”
Detective Collins stared at her.
“You placed an accelerant beside an ignition source?”
“I didn’t know he was going to do this!”
The timer showed one minute and twenty seconds.
The woman outside slammed both fists against the glass.
“Break the window!”
Detective Collins looked at me.
“Get down.”
She wrapped her jacket around her arm and struck the small pane beside the door handle.
The first hit cracked it.
The second shattered the glass.
Gas rushed past us into the night air.
Detective Collins reached through the broken pane and unlocked the door.
A woman stumbled inside.
She wore dark jeans, muddy boots, and a black baseball cap pulled low over her face.
She looked around forty.
A pale scar ran from her temple to her jaw.
Evelyn collapsed against the counter.
“No.”
The woman removed her cap.
Dark hair fell around her shoulders.
She looked older than the photograph in the newspaper, but there was no mistaking the necklace around her throat.
A small golden bird.
Natalie.
“You buried the wrong woman,” she told Evelyn.
The timer reached forty-five seconds.
Natalie pointed toward the backyard.
“The gas valve is outside, but the line has been chained open. I need something to cut it.”
I remembered the bolt cutters Kevin kept in the garage.
“I know where they are.”
Detective Collins caught my arm.
“You’re not going into that garage.”
“Then we all die.”
The timer showed thirty-eight seconds.
I ran.
The garage door was already open.
The gasoline can sat beside the water heater exactly as Evelyn had described.
A thin trail of liquid stretched across the concrete floor.
It led to a pile of old newspapers beneath the electrical panel.
Kevin had prepared everything.
The bolt cutters hung above his workbench.
I grabbed them and turned back.
Then I noticed something inside Kevin’s black tool cabinet.
A phone.
Its screen was lit.
A live video showed the kitchen.
Kevin had been watching us through a hidden camera.
At the bottom of the screen was a red button marked:
MANUAL IGNITION
The countdown wasn’t the only trigger.
Kevin could activate the device himself.
Even from the police car.
I snatched up the phone and ran toward the kitchen.
“Kevin has a second trigger!”
Natalie took the bolt cutters from me.
“Get everyone outside.”
She raced through the back door.
Detective Collins pushed Brooke toward the yard.
Evelyn refused to move.
“I need to talk to Natalie.”
“You can talk after the house doesn’t explode,” I snapped.
The timer reached twenty seconds.
I grabbed Evelyn’s wrist and dragged her outside.
Detective Collins followed.
Natalie knelt beside the gas meter, cutting through a thick chain wrapped around the valve.
The metal resisted.
“Come on,” she muttered.
Fifteen seconds.
Detective Hill saw us in the backyard and began running around the side of the house.
Kevin twisted inside the police car, trying to reach something in his pocket.
“Check him!” I screamed.
Detective Hill opened the rear door and pulled Kevin out.
A small remote slipped from Kevin’s hand.
It struck the pavement.
Kevin kicked it toward the storm drain.
Detective Hill forced him against the car.
“What did you do?”
Kevin laughed.
“You’re too late.”
Ten seconds.
Natalie squeezed the bolt cutters with both hands.
The chain snapped.
She turned the valve.
Nothing happened.
“It’s jammed!”
Five seconds.
Detective Collins pushed us farther into the yard.
“Get down!”
Four.
Three.
Two.
The timer reached zero.
I covered my head.
Nothing happened.
For one long second, the world remained completely silent.
Then a small popping sound came from the kitchen.
A bright blue flash lit the windows.
The explosion struck like a giant fist.
Glass burst outward.
The back door flew from its hinges.
Heat rolled across the yard as flames raced through the kitchen ceiling.
Detective Collins threw herself over me.
Brooke screamed.
Evelyn lay face down in the grass.
The blast shattered the upstairs windows and sent burning pieces of wood across the lawn.
But the house did not collapse.
Natalie had turned the valve just enough.
The explosion was violent, but the main gas line had stopped feeding it.
Fire climbed the kitchen walls.
Detective Hill called for firefighters and additional officers.
Kevin stood beside the police car, watching his plan burn.
His smile had vanished.
Natalie slowly rose from the ground.
Blood ran from a cut above her eyebrow.
She looked toward Kevin.
For nine years, he had believed she was hidden, powerless, and afraid.
Now she was standing in his backyard while police surrounded him.
Kevin stared at her as though he were seeing a ghost.
“Natalie?”
She walked toward him.
Detective Hill raised one hand.
“Stop there.”
Natalie stopped several feet away.
“You look disappointed,” she said.
Kevin’s face twisted.
“You should be dead.”
Evelyn began sobbing behind me.
Natalie looked at her.
“So should the woman you buried.”
Detective Collins helped me stand.
“What does that mean?”
Natalie turned toward us.
“The body inside my grave isn’t mine.”
“We know that,” I said. “Whose body is it?”
Natalie’s expression hardened.
“That is the question Kevin’s mother has spent nine years avoiding.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“I didn’t know her name.”
“You knew enough to help burn the car.”
Detective Collins looked sharply at Evelyn.
“You were at the accident scene?”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“I arrived afterward.”
“How?”
“Kevin called me.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He said Natalie had driven off the road.”
Natalie gave a bitter laugh.
“I wasn’t driving.”
Every person in the yard fell silent.
Kevin looked away.
Natalie touched the scar along her face.
“He was driving. We were arguing because I had discovered he was stealing from his father’s company.”
She pointed at Kevin.
“He had created fake vendors, fake invoices, and fake expenses. The same method he later used with Laura and the cleaning company.”
Brooke lowered her head.
Natalie continued.
“I threatened to take the evidence to the police. Kevin drove faster. He told me nobody would believe a wife over her successful husband.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“He reached across the console and grabbed my throat.”
Evelyn began crying harder.
“The car left the highway and rolled down an embankment. I was thrown through the passenger window.”
Natalie’s hand trembled.
“When I woke up, the car was burning.”
“How did you survive?”
“A truck driver found me farther down the hill. I had no identification. My face was injured. I couldn’t remember my name for nearly two weeks.”
“Then whose body was inside the car?” Detective Collins asked.
Natalie looked at Evelyn.
“Tell them.”
Evelyn pressed both hands against her mouth.
“Tell them!” Natalie shouted.
Kevin spoke from beside the police car.
“My mother didn’t kill anyone.”
“No,” Natalie said. “She only helped you hide the body.”
Evelyn sank to her knees.
“There was a woman in the back seat.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“What woman?”
Evelyn stared at the burning house.
“When I reached the crash site, Kevin was standing beside the road. His clothes were covered in blood. He said Natalie was dead inside the car.”
“But Natalie wasn’t inside,” Detective Collins said.
“I didn’t know that then.”
“Who was the other woman?”
“Kevin said she was a hitchhiker they had picked up.”
Natalie shook her head.
“That was another lie.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“You knew her?”
“Yes.”
Natalie’s voice became quiet.
“Her name was Rachel Palmer.”
Brooke’s head snapped up.
“What did you say?”
Natalie turned toward her.
“Rachel Palmer.”
Brooke stumbled backward.
“No.”
“Did you know her?”
Brooke’s face drained of color.
“That was my sister.”
Flames reflected in her eyes.
“My sister disappeared nine years ago.”
No one moved.
Brooke stared at Kevin.
“You told me Natalie killed her.”
Kevin remained silent.
“You said your wife became jealous because Rachel was helping you with the company accounts. You told me Natalie attacked both of you and caused the accident.”
Natalie’s expression changed.
“Rachel was helping him?”
Brooke nodded slowly.
“She found missing money in the company books. She called me the night she disappeared and said she had evidence against a man named Kevin.”
Brooke’s voice broke.
“I didn’t know it was you.”
Kevin looked at the ground.
Brooke rushed toward him, but Detective Hill caught her.
“You killed my sister!”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Kevin said.
“You put her body in that car!”
“The crash killed her.”
“You were driving!”
Natalie stepped closer.
“Rachel was not a hitchhiker. She was helping me expose Kevin.”
Brooke stared at her.
“You knew my sister?”
“She contacted me after discovering the fake accounts. We planned to meet that night and take everything to the police.”
Natalie looked at Kevin.
“He found out.”
Evelyn began rocking back and forth on the grass.
“I thought the body was Natalie. Kevin told me we had to protect the family. He said if the police discovered he had been drinking, his life would be over.”
“So you helped him burn the car?” Detective Collins asked.
“I poured gasoline around it.”
Evelyn’s voice was barely audible.
“Kevin lit the match.”
Firefighters rushed through the front yard, dragging hoses toward the house.
Detective Collins turned to Detective Hill.
“Separate all of them. Nobody speaks to anyone else.”
Brooke was crying uncontrollably.
“My sister was in that grave the entire time.”
Natalie nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
Brooke looked at her.
“Why didn’t you come back?”
“I tried.”
She pulled up her sleeve.
A long scar crossed her forearm.
“After I recovered my memory, I contacted Evelyn.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“You called me from the hospital.”
“You told me Kevin had reported me dead.”
“I was afraid.”
“You told me he had powerful friends and that I would be arrested for Rachel’s death.”
Evelyn whispered, “Kevin said you would destroy all of us.”
“So you paid me to disappear.”
“I thought it was the only way to keep him from finding you.”
Natalie laughed bitterly.
“You didn’t protect me. You protected him.”
“I sent you money.”
“You sent me enough to stay silent.”
I remembered Brooke’s bank transfers.
“Kevin has been sending Natalie two thousand dollars every month.”
Natalie looked at me.
“No, he hasn’t.”
Brooke frowned.
“The account is in your name.”
“It isn’t my account.”
“Then who received the money?”
Nobody answered.
Detective Collins took Brooke’s phone and examined the transaction history.
“The destination account ends in 7719.”
Natalie shook her head.
“I’ve never had an account ending in those numbers.”
Evelyn slowly looked toward Kevin.
He smiled again.
Brooke saw it.
“Who owns the account?”
Kevin said nothing.
Detective Collins turned to Evelyn.
“Do you recognize those numbers?”
Evelyn’s face tightened.
“No.”
Kevin laughed.
“Still protecting secrets, Mom?”
Evelyn’s expression changed.
Detective Collins noticed.
“You know the account.”
Evelyn looked toward the burning house, as though wishing the flames would swallow her before she had to answer.
Finally, she whispered, “It belongs to my husband.”
“Kevin’s father?” I asked.
Evelyn nodded.
I had met Richard Reed only twice before he died.
He had been a quiet, serious man who rarely spoke during family dinners.
Kevin always claimed his father died from a heart attack seven years ago.
“What does Richard have to do with this?” I asked.
Evelyn looked directly at me.
“Everything.”
Before she could explain, an officer rushed around the side of the house.
“Detective Collins!”
“What is it?”
“We found someone inside.”
My heart stopped.
“Inside the house?”
“In the basement.”
“We don’t have a basement,” I said.
The officer looked confused.
“Yes, ma’am. There’s a concealed door beneath the pantry floor.”
Kevin’s face went completely white.
The officer continued.
“We found a small room underneath the foundation. It’s fireproof and locked from the outside.”
Detective Collins looked at Kevin.
“Who is inside?”
He didn’t answer.
“Kevin, who is inside that room?”
For the first time all day, genuine panic appeared in his eyes.
The firefighters emerged through the back door carrying a stretcher.
A man lay on it beneath an oxygen mask.
His hair was gray.
His wrists were bruised.
But even after seven years, I recognized him from the family photographs.
Evelyn screamed.
“Richard!”
Kevin’s father opened his eyes.
The entire family had believed he was dead.
He lifted one shaking hand and pointed directly at Kevin.
Then he pulled the oxygen mask away from his mouth.
“My son didn’t kill Natalie,” he rasped.
Kevin stared at him in horror.
Richard took one painful breath.
“He killed the woman Laura used to be.”
I stepped closer.
“What does that mean?”
Richard’s eyes moved to my face.
Tears filled them.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
“No.”
“But you knew me before Kevin.”
A chill traveled down my spine.
Richard reached beneath his torn shirt and removed an old photograph.
The edges were bent and stained.
He held it toward me.
The picture showed Richard standing beside a young woman outside Reed Financial Solutions.
The young woman was smiling.
She looked exactly like me.
On the back, someone had written:
Laura Palmer — Senior Accountant
Brooke saw the photograph and stopped breathing.
“Palmer?”
Richard nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“Laura, Brooke isn’t the only woman here who lost a sister.”
He pointed toward the photograph.
“You are Rachel Palmer.”…………………………
TO BE CONTINUED IN LAST PART...
