Chapter 5 - The Deceptive Past
Detective Marcus Vance didn't waste any time. Within two hours of leaving our kitchen, he called me with a breakthrough that blew the lid off Patricia’s carefully constructed identity.
"Mark, you need to hear this," Marcus said over the phone, his voice tense with urgency. "We ran a background check on Patricia’s maiden name—Patricia Larson—and dug into her employment history prior to meeting Emily."
"What did you find?" I asked, keeping one eye on Ava and Lucas, who were now happily drawing pictures at the kitchen table.
"She wasn't just a friendly neighbor or a church volunteer. Five years ago, Patricia worked as a licensed practical nurse at St. Jude’s Medical Center in the ICU department," Marcus revealed. "She had direct, unrestricted access to pharmaceutical supplies, including paralytics, sedatives, and restricted narcotics. But that's not even the most damning part."
A chill ran down my spine. "Go on."
"She was fired," Marcus continued. "Not officially—she resigned before they could terminate her contract, but an internal investigation was launched after three elderly patients under her care suffered inexplicable respiratory failures during her night shifts. None of them survived. But because the hospital settled out of court to avoid a public scandal, the police were never involved, and her nursing license was merely suspended rather than permanently revoked."
The sheer scale of Patricia’s manipulation made me feel sick to my stomach. She wasn't just a bitter woman; she was a calculated predator who had hidden in plain sight, using her medical background and a mask of gentle empathy to infiltrate vulnerable households.
"Can we use this to get an arrest warrant?" I asked, my voice trembling with suppressed fury.
"We have enough for a grand jury subpoena and a warrant to search her current residence—an apartment she rented across town under a separate lease," Marcus confirmed. "I’m putting together a tactical team right now. I want you to stay put, keep the children locked inside, and let us handle the rest."
"Call me the second you find anything," I instructed.
"Will do, Mark. Hang in there."
I hung up the phone and walked over to the kitchen table, kneeling down beside Ava and Lucas. Ava looked up at me with her big, soulful eyes, holding up a crayon drawing of three stick figures standing under a bright yellow sun.
"This is you, Daddy, and this is Lucas and me," she whispered, a shy smile touching her lips. "Are the bad people gone forever?"
"Yes, sweetheart," I said, kissing the top of her head as my eyes burned with unshed tears. "They're gone, and they're never coming back."
For the rest of the afternoon, the house felt lighter, as if a heavy, toxic cloud had finally lifted from the rooms. The refrigerator hummed quietly, no longer accompanied by the sound of weeping children or malicious threats from behind locked doors. We played board games, built towering block castles, and ate a hearty dinner of homemade macaroni and cheese.
By 8:00 p.m., both children were fast asleep in their own beds, tucked in safely with their favorite stuffed animals. I sat in the living room chair, keeping watch by the window, waiting for Marcus’s call.
At 9:14 p.m., my phone buzzed on the coffee table.
May you like
I picked it up instantly. "Marcus?"
"Mark," Marcus’s voice came through the speaker, breathless and tense. "We just searched Patricia’s apartment. You won't believe what we found in her safe."
