Got on video Declan surveillance caught her contaminating Hazel’s toothbrush with latex gloves this morning. Declan also intercepted text between Brielle and her boyfriend talking about getting the girl out of the way and the insurance money. A long silence followed.
That’s enough for me to bring her in for questioning. Vance said finally. But Nate, you need to be prepared this is going to get ugly fast.
I don’t care. I just want Hazel safe. Understood.
I’ll send Deputy Mills to the hospital to take your statement and get the documentation from Dr. Rourke. Meanwhile, I’ll locate Brielle. She should be at Southside Boutique.
That’s where she works. Nate wasn’t sure what to believe anymore about Brielle’s life. Sit tight with Hazel.
Don’t leave the hospital until my deputy arrives. Vance’s tone was firm. And Nate, don’t do anything stupid.
Let the law handle this. Nate ended the call his jaw tight. The law.
The same law that had failed to catch Brielle years ago when she’d hurt her sister. But he played by the rules for now. Hazel’s safety came first.
Deputy Anna Mills was young but professional. Her notebook open as Nate detailed the morning’s events and the evidence they gathered. They sat in a small conference room adjacent to Hazel’s hospital room where a nurse was helping her with a puzzle.
Sheriff Vance has officers looking for your wife now, Mills told him. Based on the evidence you provided, we have enough for an arrest on charges of child endangerment at minimum. What about attempted murder? Nate asked his voice hard.
She deliberately exposed Hazel to something she knew could kill her. Mills’ expression remained carefully neutral. That’s for the DA to determine once we have her in custody.
The texts about the insurance policy certainly suggest premeditation. His phone buzzed with another text from Declan. Be not a house or boutique.
Trying to track phone location but she may have turned it off. Langley also MIA from Jim. Nate showed the message to Deputy Mills whose frown deepened.
I’ll update the sheriff. If they’re both in the wind, that complicates things. She’ll come here, Nate said with certainty.
She’ll want to know if Hazel’s had another reaction. Mills nodded. I’ll request additional security for this floor and station an officer outside Hazel’s room.
As Mills stepped out to make the call, Dr. Rourke entered his expression grave. How’s she holding up? He asked, nodding toward Hazel’s room. Better.
The rash is fading. Nate ran a hand over his face, exhaustion beginning to set in. What happens if they can’t find Brielle? Legally, I mean, an arrest warrant will be issued.
But in terms of Hazel’s custody and protection, Dr. Rourke sat across from him. You should contact a family law attorney immediately. File for emergency sole custody based on the evidence and the ongoing investigation.
The conversation was interrupted by a commotion in the hallway. Nate stood instinctively moving toward Hazel’s room when Sheriff Vance appeared in the doorway. We found Brielle, he said without preamble.
She was at the gym with Langley. Both are in custody now. Relief coursed through Nate, quickly followed by a darker satisfaction.
Did she say anything? Denied everything, of course. Said she had no idea how latex got on the toothbrush. Claimed the texts were being misinterpreted.
Vance’s expression suggested what he thought of those denials. Langley started trying to distance himself the moment we mentioned potential charges. He’ll flip on her to save his own skin.
What now? Nate asked. Now we build the case. The DA’s reviewing the evidence.
But with the video, medical documentation, and those texts, we have solid foundation. Vance’s eyes turned to Hazel’s room. How’s she doing? Better.
They’ll probably release her soon. Nate lowered his voice. I’m taking her to Declan’s guesthouse.
Safer than our place. Vance nodded approvingly. Smart move.
I’ll assign a patrol to check the area regularly. Just as a precaution. Brielle will be held without bail, given the flight risk and danger to a minor.
But it doesn’t hurt to be careful. After Vance left, Nate returned to Hazel’s side, watching as she meticulously arranged puzzle pieces. She looked up as he entered, her smile immediate and trusting.
Where’s Mommy? She asked innocently. Is she coming to see me too? The question cut through Nate like a blade. How did you explain to a five-year-old that her mother had deliberately made her sick? Mommy’s busy right now, he said carefully.
But guess what? You and I are going to have a special sleepover at Uncle Declan’s house tonight. His place has a pool. As Hazel chattered about swimming and which books to bring, Nate’s mind turned to practical matters.
He’d need to hire a lawyer, file for emergency custody, figure out what to tell Hazel’s school. And beneath it all ran a current of cold fury not just at what Brielle had done, but at how easily she’d maintained a facade of loving mother while plotting to kill their daughter. No judge would grant her custody.
No jury would acquit her. But would that be enough? A prison sentence, however long, didn’t feel like justice for what she’d done to Hazel. For the betrayal of the most sacred trust that I in that moment.
Watching Hazel’s innocent happiness at the prospect of a sleepover, Nate decided. Legal justice would be only the beginning. He would dismantle Brielle’s life piece by piece.
Her reputation, her freedom, her future, all of it forfeit from the moment she’d first deliberately harmed their daughter. Deputy Mills escorted them to Nate’s truck, then followed as they drove to the Whitmore home to collect Hazel’s things. The house felt different now, tainted by knowledge of what had happened within its walls.
Nate moved efficiently, packing Hazel’s clothes, toys, and essentials while Mills kept Hazel entertained in the living room, in the master bedroom. Nate hesitated before opening Brielle’s bedside drawer. Inside, beneath a stack of magazines, he found a small notebook.
Flipping through it, his blood ran cold. Detailed notes on Hazel’s allergic reactions dates, symptoms, substances used. A clinical record of abuse, disguised as a concerned mother’s observations, that he slipped the notebook into his pocket.
More evidence that they asked they prepare to leave. Hazel asked to bring a photo of the three of them, Nate, Brielle, and herself taken at the beach last summer. The request twisted in Nate’s chest.
How about this one instead, he suggested, finding a picture of just Hazel and himself from her birthday. But where’s mommy in that one? Hazel’s lower lip trembled slightly. Tell you what, Nate said, crouching to her level.
Let’s take both. We can decide which one to put up later. At Declan’s guesthouse, a modern one-bedroom cottage behind his main residence, Nate settled Hazel in while Declan pulled him aside to update him.
Brielle’s lawyered up already, Declan reported. Her uncle Calvin got her some hotshot defense attorney from Charleston. Doesn’t matter, Nate said flatly.
We have evidence, solid evidence. I know, just be prepared for a fight. Declan glanced toward the door where Hazel was arranging her stuffed animals on the guest bed.
What are you going to tell her? It was the question Nate had been dreading since this began. How did you shatter a child’s world, even when necessary? As little as possible, for now, he decided. That mommy did something wrong and has to go away for a while.
Declan nodded slowly. And the camping trip? The one she was planning? What about it? I’ve been thinking we still don’t have concrete proof of what she intended to do on that trip. We have suggestive texts, yes, but her lawyer could argue those were misinterpreted.
Nate saw where he was going. You want to let her think the trip is still happening. Set a trap.
With Hazel safely away, obviously, Declan clarified quickly. But if we could get Brielle on record discussing her plans with Langley, it was ruthless, calculated, and exactly what Nate needed to ensure Brielle never threatened Hazel again. Let me talk to Vance, he said.
If we can do this officially with his department involved, that’s better for the case. And if he says no? Nate’s expression hardened. Then we do it anyway.
In the guest bedroom, Hazel called for him, wanting help arranging her new sleeping area. As Nate helped her set up her stuffed animals just right, he felt a surge of fierce protectiveness in O-half measures would be enough. No legal punishment sufficient.
Brielle had violated the most sacred trust. And for that, Nate would ensure she paid the fullest possible price. The seeds of revenge planted the moment he’d read Dr. Rourke’s note had taken root.
Now, they would grow into something Brielle would never see coming until it was too late. Sheriff Vance’s office felt smaller with five people crowded inside. Nate sat beside his newly hired attorney, Patricia Donovan, a steely-eyed woman with a reputation for aggressive representation in family court.
Across the desk, Vance was flanked by Deputy Mills and the District Attorney, Martin Flores. Let me get this straight, Flores said, tapping a pen against a legal pad. You want us to release Brielle Whitmore on bail? Knowing she’s a flight risk and a danger to a minor, so you can catch her in a more serious crime? She’s already planning it, Nate insisted.
The camping trip. The texts between her and Langley make it clear that’s when she intended to kill my daughter. Those texts are suggestive but not explicit, Flores countered.
Defense could argue alternative interpretations. What we have now, the latex exposures, the medical evidence, the video, that’s enough for serious charges. But not enough to guarantee she’ll never get near Hazel again, Nate argued.
The most you can prove right now is child endangerment and possibly attempted murder. With her uncle’s connections and money, she could get a reduced sentence, be out in a few years. Patricia Donovan cleared her throat.
My client’s concern is valid. In similar cases, perpetrators have received sentences as short as five to seven years, with possibility of parole. If Ms. Whitmore maintains her parental rights, she could petition for visitation or even partial custody upon release.
The thought made Nate physically ill. I won’t risk that. Not ever.
Vance leaned forward, fingers steepled. What exactly are you proposing, Nate? Let her think the camping trip is still on. Have an undercover officer pose as the bail bondsman her uncle would hire.
Release her with an ankle monitor one that appears functional but that we control. And Langley? Mill’s ass. Keep him in custody but let her call him.
Monitor the calls. She’ll reveal more if she thinks she’s getting away with it. If she thinks she can still carry out their plan.
Flores shook his head. Too many legal gray areas. Defense would cry entrapment.
Not if we don’t suggest anything, Donovan countered. If she initiates all discussions of her plans, if the actions and ideas are entirely hers, it’s not entrapment. Vance sat back, considering.
I can’t officially sanction this. Too many risks. Too many ways it could backfire legally.
However, if Brielle’s uncle posts bail, which he likely will, we can’t legally prevent her release as long as the judge approves it. What happens after that? Well, we can certainly maintain surveillance on a suspect in an ongoing investigation. Flores shot Vance a sharp look.
You’re walking a very fine line, Sheriff. I’m protecting a child. Vance replied evenly.
By whatever legal means necessary. Two days later, Nate watched from Declan’s security room as Brielle returned to their house. Escorted by a man in an expensive suit.
Her uncle, Calvin. Presumably, she wore an ankle monitor. Her bail conditions stipulating no contact with hazel and restricted movement.
Declan had enhanced the existing surveillance system in the Whitmore home, ensuring every room except the bathrooms was now monitored. Sheriff Vance had officially distanced himself from the operation, but had assigned deputy mills to maintain case documentation, which gave them a direct line to law enforcement. She’s checking her phone, Declan noted, pointing to one of the monitors.
First thing she did after her uncle left. Nate watched as Brielle scrolled through messages, her face expressionless. Then she made a call, putting it on speaker as she moved around the kitchen.
Ash, it’s me, she said, her voice eerily normal. I’m out at home. They’ve got this stupid monitor on me.
But Calvin’s lawyer says it’s just procedure. Bri, what the hell? Langley’s voice came through clearly the jail call being recorded. The cops are saying you tried to poison your kid.
That I was helping you. Don’t be stupid, Brielle hissed. They’re recording these calls.
Just shut up and listen. Calvin’s working on getting you out next. The case is weak, just circumstantial stuff.
They’re trying to scare us. They’ve got texts, Bri. Our texts.
About the money. About the camping trip. Which proved nothing.
Brielle said smoothly. We can say it was about anything. Vacation plans after a divorce.
Whatever. The point is, we stick to the story. I didn’t do anything to Hazel.
The latex was accidental exposure. The texts were misinterpreted. And the video they mentioned? Of you with the gloves.
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Brielle’s face. What video? Nate felt a grim satisfaction. She didn’t know about the cameras.
Didn’t know how thoroughly she’d been observed. They said they have video of you putting latex on the kid’s toothbrush. Langley pressed.
That true. Brielle’s expression hardened. They’re bluffing.
There weren’t any cameras in our house. But it doesn’t matter. They can’t prove intent.
Jesus, Bri. This is insane. I didn’t sign up for.
For what? She snapped. For two million dollars? For a fresh start? That’s exactly what you signed up for. And nothing’s changed.
Nothing. She lowered her voice. The camping reservation still stands.
Two weeks from now. Enough time for this to die down. For Nate to let his guard down.
Nate’s hands clenched into fists as he listened to his wife calmly discussing plans to murder their daughter. Beside him, Deputy Mills made notes. Her face carefully professional despite the horror of what they were witnessing.
I don’t know. Langley said hesitantly. This feels too risky now.
It’s only risky if you lose your nerve. Brielle said coldly. Get out on bail, lay low, and be ready.
Nate’s predictable. They’ll want to play nice for Hazel’s sake. Shared custody.
Civil handoffs. All I need is one weekend with her. One opportunity.
Nine days after her release, Brielle received a call that changed everything. Nate and the team watched as she answered her phone in the living room. Hello.
Yes, this is she. Her expression shifted from annoyed to attentive. Dr. Matthews? Yes, of course I remember the appointment.
Dr. Matthews was fictitious a role played by a female officer working with Deputy Mills, calling from a number spoof to appear as coming from Charleston General Hospital. Yes, I’d like to confirm Hazel’s registration. Brielle said smoothly.