Chapter 2 - The Hidden Residue
The plastic bottle left on the side table was unlabelled, its cap slightly loose. Officer Vance, a veteran with tired eyes and a posture carved from decades of hard truths, stepped closer with a gloved hand. He didn't touch it immediately; instead, he shone his flashlight beam through the clear plastic. Inside sloshed a thick, amber-colored fluid that smelled sharply of industrial solvent and bitter almonds.
“Don’t touch anything around it, Mrs. Pierce,” Officer Vance instructed, his voice low and steady. “Has anyone else been in this room since you and your husband left for the hospital?”
“No one,” I answered, my voice trembling as the shock slowly began to wear off, replaced by a cold, metallic dread. “Just Richard. My father-in-law. He... he was standing right there.”
Daniel sank into the nearest armchair, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders shook. “I don't understand,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “Dad wouldn't... why would he do something like this? It was supposed to be a regular gift. He bought it at the department store downtown yesterday afternoon; I saw the bag in his car.”
“Mr. Pierce,” the second officer, a younger woman named Officer Hayes, said gently but firmly, “your father left the premises immediately after your child was rushed to the emergency room. His vehicle is gone from the driveway. Do you know where he keeps a second residence or where he might go?”
“His cabin,” Daniel whispered, looking up, horror dawning in his eyes. “Up by Pine Ridge. But he wouldn't—he couldn't have known what was in that jar. Could he?”
I stared at the silver box on the floor. The pink label of the Snow Angel Glow Cream was peeling at the corner, revealing another label underneath. With a trembling hand, using the edge of a pen Officer Vance handed me, I pried the top label back.
Underneath was a warning label: INDUSTRIAL STRIPPING AGENT. CAUTION: SEVERE CHEMICAL BURNS. FOR PROFESSIONAL USE ONLY.
Richard hadn't bought a skincare set. He had bought a professional-grade paint stripper, scraped it out, and refilled a high-end cosmetic jar with it. He had targeted my nine-year-old daughter with calculated, premeditated malice.
Officer Vance crouched down beside me. “This changes things significantly. This isn’t a tragic accident or a defective product. This is poisoning. Where is your daughter now?”
“She’s stable,” I managed to choke out, tears finally breaking free. “The doctors gave her a neutralizing wash and painkillers. They said her skin suffered chemical burns, but because we used cold water right away, it might not scar permanently. But her face... her face is blistered.”
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Daniel stood up abruptly, his expression twisting from grief into a terrifying, dark fury. “He’s going to pay for this. If he’s at the cabin, I’m going to find him.”
“Stay put, Mr. Pierce,” Officer Vance commanded, stepping in front of the door. “This is a crime scene now. We are dispatching units to the cabin right this second. You are staying right here.”
