Chapter 4 - The Threat in the Shadows
The name sent a chill through the hospital room. Detective Lin exchanged a sharp look with Rosalind.
“Uncle Richard?” Lin repeated, leaning closer to the bed. “Savannah, does Uncle Richard have a last name? Do you know where he works?”
Savannah frowned, trying to concentrate through the lingering fog of the sedatives. “He worked with Daddy sometimes. He brought the white boxes to the house. The ones with the medical seals.”
Detective Lin closed her folder abruptly and stood up. “Thank you, Savannah. You've been so brave. Rest now, I have to make a phone call.”
She stepped out into the hallway, pulling her phone from her pocket. Rosalind followed her through the door, closing it gently so as not to disturb the child.
“Detective, who is Richard?” Rosalind asked, demanding answers. “Gavin doesn't have a brother named Richard. None of our close relatives are named Richard.”
“Not a relative,” Lin said grimly, tapping furiously on her screen. “Richard Vance... wait, no. Richard Vance is my uncle, ignore that. Let's look at medical suppliers in the Twin Cities area. Richard... Richard Sterling.”
Rosalind gasped. “Richard Sterling? The director of the Sterling Memorial Funeral Home? The same funeral home handling the arrangements?”
“Bingo,” Lin said, her eyes widening. “Sterling Memorial handled the paperwork for Savannah's supposed death certificate. They provided the casket. And more importantly, Richard Sterling is a close business associate of Gavin’s—or at least, they were partners in a failed medical waste disposal venture two years ago.”
The pieces of the horrifying puzzle were snapping into place with terrifying speed. This wasn't just a desperate act by two bankrupt parents; it was a conspiracy involving professionals who knew how to manipulate the system from the inside out.
“If Sterling is involved,” Rosalind said, her voice shaking with anger, “he's the one who provided the drugs. He's the one who supplied the customized coffin with internal restraints.”
“And he's probably destroying every paper trail connecting him to Gavin right now,” Lin said, checking her watch. “I'm calling for a warrant to raid the Sterling Memorial Funeral Home immediately. Stay here with Savannah, Mrs. Rosalind. We're going to put an end to this tonight.”
As Detective Lin sprinted down the hospital corridor toward the elevators, Rosalind turned back toward the door of Savannah's room. But before she could touch the handle, her phone buzzed in her pocket.
It was an unknown number.
Hesitating for a second, Rosalind swiped the screen and brought the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Rosalind,” a calm, gravelly voice echoed through the speaker. It sounded older, smooth, and chillingly composed. “I understand you've been causing quite a stir tonight.”
Rosalind's blood ran cold. “Who is this?”
“You know who I am,” the voice replied smoothly. “Richard Sterling. And before your detective friend kicks down my front door, I think you and I need to have a little conversation about your granddaughter's future.”
“You monster,” Rosalind hissed into the phone. “You helped my son try to murder a six-year-old child! You belong in a cage!”
“Murder is such an ugly, unrefined word,” Richard chuckled softly on the other end, completely unfazed. “Call it an investment restructuring. Gavin and Priscilla needed liquidity. I provided a service. But unfortunately, your little interruption has left loose ends.”
“The police are already on their way to arrest you.”
“Are they?” Richard asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Let's check the time, Mrs. Rosalind. By the time Detective Lin reaches my office, my safe will be empty, my servers wiped, and I'll be on a private flight out of St. Paul regional airport. But... we can make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Rosalind demanded, gripping the phone so hard her knuckles turned white.
“Drop your statement. Tell the police you misunderstood the situation—that Savannah was suffering from a rare sleep disorder, that the restraints were a medical apparatus prescribed for night terrors, and that you panicked. In exchange, I'll ensure that Gavin and Priscilla take the fall quietly, and your granddaughter receives a trust fund that will set her up for life.”
“You're insane if you think I'd ever take blood money,” Rosalind snapped.
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“Think carefully, Mrs. Rosalind,” Richard's voice dropped its polite facade, turning razor-sharp. “You have one granddaughter left. It would be an awful shame if something else happened to her while she's recovering in a public hospital... where security is so terribly easy to bypass.”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
