Chapter 5 - Maureen Was Looking for the Birdhouse TooConrad reached the property in twelve minutes.
A police cruiser waited a block away.
His attorney had advised calling before confrontation, particularly because the videos involved a child.
Officer Ryan Ellis met Conrad near the side gate.
A second officer stayed near the front.
Conrad explained only what mattered.
"My mother has been mistreating my daughter. I have video evidence. My daughter is safe at my sister's house."
Ellis nodded.
"And right now?"
"I believe my mother may be trying to remove something belonging to my late wife."
"What?"
"I don't know."
That sounded ridiculous.
Conrad knew it.
A blue bird.
A silver key.
A secret from a dead woman.
But Officer Ellis didn't mock him.
"You want us present while you ask her to leave?"
"Yes."
They entered through the kitchen.
Marisol stood near the counter.
"She's outside."
Conrad looked through the glass doors.
The garden shed stood open.
No Maureen.
His stomach tightened.
They crossed the yard.
Inside the shed, boxes had been moved.
Tools lay scattered.
A wooden birdhouse rested on the workbench.
Paint faded.
Blue roof.
Conrad stopped.
He hadn't seen it in years.
The small decorative door had been broken.
The hidden compartment he'd once built beneath the base was open.
Empty.
"Someone's been here," Ellis said.
Conrad touched the wood.
Fresh splinters.
"She found it."
A voice came from the doorway.
"Found what?"
Maureen.
She stood behind them holding gardening gloves.
Conrad turned.
His mother looked at the police officer.
Then at him.
"What is this?"
"Where's the key?"
Maureen blinked.
"What key?"
"Don't."
"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
Officer Ellis stepped forward.
"Ma'am, Mr. Whitaker asked that officers be present while he discusses a family matter."
Maureen laughed.
"A family matter?"
She looked at Conrad.
"You called police on your own mother?"
Conrad pulled out his phone.
Opened the bathroom video.
Maureen saw the screen.
Her expression changed.
There it was.
Fear.
Not shame.
Fear.
"Where did you get that?"
"Does it matter?"
"Marisol."
"Don't say her name."
"That woman recorded me without permission."
"You poured water over an eight-year-old child while calling her a bastard."
Maureen looked toward Officer Ellis.
"It wasn't what it looks like."
Conrad almost laughed.
"She had spilled juice everywhere. She was throwing a tantrum. I was cleaning her."
"She was wearing clothes."
"It got out of hand."
"You called her a bastard."
Maureen's face hardened.
"Because Elise lied."
Officer Ellis looked between them.
Conrad felt his pulse rise.
"About what?"
Maureen hesitated.
Then:
"Wren may not be yours."
Conrad had expected it.
Hearing it aloud still hurt.
"I don't care."
Maureen stared.
"What?"
"I said I don't care."
"Conrad."
"She is my daughter."
"You need to hear the truth."
"No. You need to understand something."
He stepped closer.
"You don't get to punish a child because of something you think her mother did."
Maureen's expression became almost pitying.
"You really are blind."
"Where's the key?"
"What key?"
"Elise's silver key."
Her eyes flickered.
Officer Ellis noticed too.
Conrad continued.
"You were asking Wren about it."
"I was asking about a necklace."
"Why?"
"It belonged to the family."
"No. It belonged to my wife."
"Your wife stole from us."
The sentence stopped him.
"What?"
Maureen looked immediately as though she'd said too much.
Conrad stared.
"What did Elise steal?"
"Nothing."
"You just said—"
"I misspoke."
"No."
Maureen turned toward the house.
Officer Ellis said:
"Ma'am, please stay for the conversation."
She stopped.
Conrad moved to the workbench.
Picked up the birdhouse.
"Did you open this?"
"No."
"Someone did."
"Maybe Wren."
"She hasn't been out here."
Maureen smiled.
"You don't know what your daughter does when you're gone."
The cruelty of it was effortless.
Conrad finally understood how deeply this went.
"You're leaving tonight."
Maureen stared.
"This is my home too."
"No."
"Your father bought this property."
"I bought it from his estate."
"I have residency rights."
"Then lawyers can discuss them."
Maureen's voice rose.
"You're throwing me out because a cook recorded one bad moment?"
"Four."
Silence.
"I have four videos."
Maureen's face went blank.
Conrad watched every calculation collapse and rebuild behind her eyes.
"Four?"
"Yes."
She looked toward Marisol through the distant kitchen windows.
Then at the police.
"You don't understand what Elise did."
"Then explain."
Maureen shook her head.
"You wouldn't believe me."
"Try."
She stepped closer.
"Your wife found something she wasn't supposed to find."
Conrad stopped.
"What?"
Maureen looked toward the broken birdhouse.
"Your father made decisions before he died."
"What decisions?"
"Financial decisions."
Conrad's pulse changed.
"What does that have to do with Wren?"
Maureen's answer came quietly.
"Everything."
Then she pulled a folded document from her handbag.
She handed it to Conrad.
A laboratory report.
His name.
Wren's name.
A paternity probability of zero.
Conrad stared.
Maureen whispered:
"Elise knew."
He looked up.
"Where did you get this?"
"Three years ago."
"Before Elise died?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Maureen's eyes hardened.
"Because your father told me not to."
Conrad stared at the paper.
At the date.
At the name of the laboratory.
Then something else caught his attention.
The test had supposedly been ordered two weeks before Elise entered hospice.
A time when Maureen had been handling most household errands.
Conrad folded the paper.
"How did you get Wren's sample?"
May you like
Maureen didn't answer.
And suddenly Conrad wondered whether the report proved anything at all.
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