Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins
Chapter 1
Manhattan, February 8, 2021
Petra Van Gatt
I still can’t believe Eric took Alex to the police station. The pain I felt while hearing my husband pleading with me and being unable to answer him makes my heart reel.
“You did the right thing,” Carice says as she remains sitting beside me with Matthew. “It’s hard to see the man we love for what he truly is. But you did the right thing, I mean it.”
I heave a long sigh, exhausted after such a mentally and emotionally draining day. I have to remind myself that Alex is a murderer, a kidnapper, and at the end of the day, a criminal. But my heart is too stubborn, and despite all these things, I still manage to love him and it hurts like hell seeing him being taken away. Oh, stop it! I slap myself mentally just as fast, bringing back some rationality to tame those stupid feelings. He killed your mother for fuck’s sake! I remind myself. And even lied to you over and over again about so many things!
Matthew steps in, draping an arm around my shoulder––small goosebumps appear on my skin at the sentiment, though I don’t really notice. “Hey…” his voice, low and warm, soothes me. “It’s gonna be okay. We are here for you.”
Yet I can’t stop thinking about the arrest that just happened a few minutes ago. “Do you think he will get out today?”
“Well, I guess so,” Carice is the first to answer. “He’s gonna call his lawyer and will, most likely, be released on bail.”
Despite the annoyance thick in her tone, a small smile settles on my lips knowing he should be back home before I go to sleep.
I hear the creaking sound of the main door opening, so I stand up from my seat to check who’s coming. I watch as Maria enters, carrying a plethora of grocery bags. I go and talk to her so that she knows Alex might not come back home in time for dinner. Then, Maria gives a quick glance at the living room where Matthew and Carice are seated before asking me discreetly, “Are they staying here for dinner?”
“Um,” that’s a question I wasn’t expecting, but today I’d rather have some company in case Alex doesn’t come back. “Yes, they are staying here for dinner.”
“Alright, then,” she nods knowingly and leaves to continue with her task.
As I’m about to return to the living room, my iPhone starts ringing inside my pocket. Maybe it’s Alex! I can’t help but think to myself with a wistful smile.
As I take it out to check though, my smile fades away just as fast seeing Emma’s name pop up on the screen.
“Hi, Emma,” I greet once I pick the call, my voice slightly monotone.
“Hey, how are you?” Emma asks, her tone hurried. “Oh my gosh, I just read the news! Why didn’t you call me?”
“Wait—you read the news?” I ask, quite surprised.
“I mean, my maids did. And according to them, it’s like everywhere that Alex killed your mom. Is it true?”
Well, I see Eric’s office didn’t waste time to do a press release. “Um, they have strong evidence against him, yeah, but Alex told me he had nothing to do with it before being arrested, so who knows…”
“Shit!” Emma exhales loudly in return, without saying much more. “This is insane! And, um, do you know what she died from?”
“We don’t know yet, we are still waiting for the results from the lab,” I tell her.
“Damn,” Emma utters, still in shock. “When is the funeral? Are you gonna do it here?”
“Yes.” I press my lips tight, remembering the video Mom left for me. “Mom’s last wish was to be buried somewhere close to me. So I’m thinking to do the funeral in Bedford Hills.”
“What?” she snaps in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”
“Of course I’m serious,” I answer back. “Honoring her last wish is the least I can do.”
“And have you spoken to Alex about that?” she keeps enquiring.
“When he gets back home I will.” Then I pause, thinking something through. “Tomorrow I’ll call Father Thomas, Mom liked him a lot. It’d be great if he could come here and do the Mass.”
“Alright, if you need help with prepping the funeral, you can count me in.” Before I can thank her though, she adds, “Can I invite Yara?”
My jaw nearly drops at her question. And I’m not sure what I’m supposed to make out of it. “You want to invite my in-laws to the funeral?” I repeat, making sure that’s what I heard her saying. “Because you know, if you invite Yara she’s gonna bring her sisters, her mom, and basically everyone else…”
“I mean, they are your family too. No?”
I blow out a breath, remembering what that lovely family did to Hendrik and now what they did to my own mother. “Yeah, but they might have something to do with her murder,” I tell her bluntly.
“One more reason to invite them in, then.” I raise my brows, taken aback by her answer. “At least Eric can interview them and gather more info for the case.”
To be fair, that’s not an entirely bad idea; if they come to the funeral, Eric can have a word with them, and maybe even have them arrested too. One thing is for sure; Julia is just as guilty as Alex. She was involved in Mom’s abduction and Eric has the proof on tape. Inviting them to the funeral would be a good way to bring them to New York without raising any suspicion…
“You know what?” I say. “I think it’s a great idea. Do you mind helping me with the funeral preparation?”
“Of course not! Tell me what you need and I’ve got you.”
My lips raise up at her enthusiasm. “I will give you the contact of Carice, my mom’s attorney, so that you can both work on a guest list, and, um, we have to contact the mortician to get everything ready for Sunday. What do you think?”
“Alright, sounds doable. Meanwhile I’ll reach out to a few event planners that work around the clock.”
“Thank you for everything, Emma.” My tone is lower, but it’s warmer and filled with gratitude for having her in my life. And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that whatever happens between Alex and I, Emma will always be there for me.
“Do you want me to come over? Are you doing okay?” As she asks, I notice that her tone has also switched, now matching mine.
“I’m good, Matt and Carice are here too, and we’re gonna have dinner soon.” As I say those words, I see Maria from afar walking into the living room carrying two lemonades which she hands to Matt and Carice while they patiently wait for me. I find it rather noble seeing Alex’s housekeeper treat his enemies with courtesy and respect. Though I’m not entirely sure if she knows who they are, but regardless of that, it reminds me that even at war, respect goes a long way.
* * *
After dinner, and while Matt and Carice have become new besties, I check discreetly my phone hoping to find a new text message from my husband.
Yet, there’s nothing…
Dammit! It’s already ten p.m. though.
Amid the giggles emanating from a joke Carice is telling, I type in while pretending to be paying attention: Did you get out of jail yet? Are you coming home tonight?
Regardless of the arrest, I just hope he’ll come back soon so that we can talk about everything that has happened. I’m not sure how he will justify himself for lying yet another time though. I’m not even sure what we will become even if he does come up with an excuse.
“Is everything okay, Petra?” I hear Matt asking.
I slip my iPhone back inside my pocket, and turning at him, I smile innocently. “Yes, of course. I’m just getting sleepy.”
Carice glances at her watch, before standing up from her seat, looking a bit embarrassed. “Oh my, it’s already ten. We should really get going. I’m sorry for staying so long.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her immediately as Matthew and I also stand up. “I really appreciate that you both took the time to stay with me.” It’s actually true, they were a great distraction and I needed just that. Plus, we spoke in length about the funeral that would be happening on Sunday in Bedford Hills.
“Thank you for the lovely dinner,” Carice says as she gathers her coat and purse. “Tomorrow I will get in touch with Emma and we will finalize the arrangements for the funeral.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, putting on a pleasant smile. “I really appreciate it.”
I escort them to the front door, and to my greatest surprise, Carice plunges me into a tight hug as if she’d known me for years. Since she’s around the age of my mom and they look quite similar, her hug feels a bit maternal yet oddly foreign at the same time. “If you need anything, call me,” she whispers near my ear. “No matter the hour of the day or night.”
As she releases me, I give her a nod in acknowledgment and then turn to Matt, who’s standing beside the door.
“Thank you for coming,” I say before opening my arms to give him a friendly hug.
“Always,” he mumbles as we embrace each other. Then he leans in and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. The touch was unexpected, but a small smile pulls on my lips in response.
Once they head out, Matt mimics my smile, right before they get into the elevator.
Closing the door, I heave a long sigh, mixed with both relief to be finally alone and exhaustion. Then I can’t help but take my iPhone again and check if Alex replied to my text.
Nothing, still…
My heart drops to my knees seeing my message has been left unread. It’s already late, but for the better or worse, I call him. The ringtone goes on and on, until it ends on his voicemail. Well, either he’s in a cell without his phone, or he’s purposely avoiding me. I just hope it’s the former.
I go and say goodnight to Maria, before heading back to our bedroom.
My eyes grace the bed––the ironed sheets still perfectly stretched over the mattress. Then I undress and put on my pajamas, I don’t usually sleep with them anymore as I end up too warm because of Alex’s body heat, but I don’t really think he’s gonna spend the night here. And as I come to think of it, if he’s found guilty, I might have to spend the next fifteen years or more without him sleeping with me in our bed. The idea petrifies me, I can’t accept a reality where I might live here alone and raise our baby all by myself. What a freaking nightmare this is!
I open the bed and get inside—I’m happy I decided to wear my pajamas because despite the heater, it’s pretty chill between the sheets.Turning off the light, I look at my right side, the sheets still stretched, and I can’t help but despise him for lying to me, for breaking his promises, and to have put our relationship in jeopardy.
The more I think of Alex’s behavior, the more I know I lured myself to him, glossing over his flaws, despite knowing perfectly well that his habit of lying could lead to our downfall.
* * *
Manhattan, February 9, 2021
Petra Van Gatt
I wake up, and instinctively turn to check the right side of the bed which, as expected, is still empty. Given the amount of sunlight casting through the room, I’d say it’s already way past nine o’clock. And yet, Maria didn’t come in to wake me up. I know she never had to do that with Alex, but if no one wakes me up, I’ll end up sleeping until far too late. And today, I’ve got a lot to do when it comes to the funeral. As I leap off of bed, I take my iPhone from the nightstand and check immediately my text messages. Despite being already nine-thirty a.m, Alex hasn’t replied to anything yet. I do have a new text message though, but from Matthew: Good morning! Thank you for yesterday dinner, it was lovely. I hope you spent a great night and managed to sleep well. If you need anything, just let me know. X
His message manages to warm my heart and it feels good to read something like this when I’m feeling pretty alone. I write back: Hey, thanks for your kind words. It was great having dinner with you both. I slept okay, yes. I was really exhausted. I’m getting started with the funeral arrangements. I’m gonna invite my in-laws too. I press send. Then I leave the room and head to the terrace. I’m not sure why though, but I think it’s the habit of going there and finding Alex sitting at the table while drinking his usual espresso. But as I reach the outdoors, my eyes alight on the breakfast table with only one place setting—mine.
There is no one there that is sipping an espresso, or reading on an iPad, and no one to make me smile either.
I take a seat as per usual, but my heart aches, feeling so incredibly empty—just like the chair in front of me.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Maria greets as she walks in, carrying a matcha latte and a plate with scrambled vegan eggs. Damn, even the freaking eggs remind me of him. “Did you sleep well?”
“Good morning, Maria,” I tell her, though I am unable to match with her melodic voice. “Yes, thank you.”
I give a first sip on my matcha and as I look again in front of me to the empty chair, I can’t help but heave a sigh filled with sorrow. Despite hating him for what he did, I wish he could be here, eating his breakfast with me. Heck, this reminds me of what Yara had said a few days before our marriage, “Petra, I know you are furious at him but can’t you be furious and married to him?” I’m definitely furious at him, yet I’d rather be furious at him and be taking my breakfast with him.
My phone starts beeping and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. I look at the new text message immediately, only to be smashed with disappointment.
Alex told me yesterday about your Mom. Are you doing okay? Shall we meet for lunch and have a talk? I tried to contact Alex but he ins’t answering. Call me back when you can. X
Now that’s new… How come Alex told my dad about it? Well, in any case, I call my dad just as fast. In the middle of everything, I’d totally forgotten to tell him about her death. In a way, I’m glad Alex actually called him to deliver the news, it’s still better than reading it on the New York Post or God knows where else.
“Hi, dad,” I greet once I hear his breathing from the other side of the line. “How are you?”
“Petra,” his tone sounds more joyful than usual. Well, in a way, Mom was his bully and his blackmailer, so I’m pretty sure Dad won’t miss her looming around. “I’m alright. Ryan told me Alex got arrested.”
“Oh, Ryan called you?” I repeat a bit surprised that he called my dad but not me. “That’s very kind of him… Um, do you know if Alex has been released yet?”
“He hasn’t answered my calls, so I think he’s still in there.” His answer eases me a bit, at least that would mean Alex isn’t mad at me because of what I did. “What if I pass by and have lunch with you? We could discuss your Mom’s funeral and where to have it.”
I can’t help but find it amusing that Dad is very much looking forward to his ex-wife’s burial. “I’m thinking of doing it in Bedford Hills, actually. I’m gonna call Father Thomas after breakfast and—”
“In Bedford Hills?” There’s an ounce of astonishment in his tone. “You mean you want to bury her there?”
“Dad, we have land that stretches for miles, I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The irony,” Dad snaps. “When your mom was alive you never wanted to be with her and now that she’s gone you want to bury her in the backyard. I don’t get it.”
“It’s her last wish, I’m just honoring it,” I tell him. “Don’t worry—if she start bothering me, I will send her back to the Netherlands.”
A quick laugher erupts from the other side of the line and I’m glad I managed to light up his mood. “That’s a viable option. Well, shall I pass by around one-thirty?”
“Yes, that would be great.”
Before I can finish the call though, Dad asks, “You aren’t gonna miss her, are you?”
“Um,” his question leaves me a bit speechless and I wonder if it’s truly a question he’s asking to me or to himself. Regardless, I press my lips tight, pondering it. “I don’t know. I, um, it’s a weird feeling for sure,” I venture. “In a way, I’m not gonna miss her, but in another, I had hopes we could somewhat get to a better relationship and that she’d finally turn the page…you know?”
“Ah, yes, hope never dies…”
“And you?” I ask him.
“Well…” I can sense the uneasiness in his voice as he search for the best words to put on. “Despite everything we went through, she was my ex-wife and your mother so I guess I also hoped she’d have turned the page after seeing how you and Alex were living happily together.”
“Yeah, but alas she didn’t. I think she’s by far more stubborn than both of us combined,” I tell him.
Dad exhales loudly in return. “It’s a pity she was so obstinate, a bit of flexibly would’ve gone a long way. But her sense of moral righteousness has always gotten in the way.” As he says those words, I can’t help but remember when Mom reported him and Alex to the police twenty years back. Dad had only told her the truth about Janette, but Mom didn’t waste any time with betraying him. Maybe that’s why he never considered dating again afterward.
* * *
A few hours later, I finally received some good news: I managed to persuade Father Thomas to fly on Saturday to do the Mass. A pity I’ll see him again under such circumstances, but I’m sure Mom would’ve appreciated the gesture.
I check my iPhone once more and since Alex hasn’t texted me back, I decide to call his attorney directly. After all, I’m pretty sure Ryan knows what’s happening. I press the call button and put the phone against my cheek. The ringtone starts radiating through my ear and I wait and wait…
“Yes?” I hear a male voice asking from the other side at long last.
“Hi, Ryan, um, it’s Petra…” My voice sounds way too soft so I steady it a bit. “How is Alex doing? Um, do you know where he is? I’ve tried calling him many times but he isn’t answering me.”
“Hi, Petra,” he greets, his tone polite as always. “Yes, he just got released an hour ago or so and is spending the rest of the day in his private residence.”
“His private residence?” I ask immediately. “I’m here at our condo, and he isn’t here.”
“I meant, he’s staying in a hotel which provides private residences.”
“Oh,” I utter, the news troubling me even more than I’d like to admit. “And, um, is there any reason why he isn’t coming back home?”
“Your husband is taking a few days off.” What? His unexpected answer crash me to the core. “He needs some time alone. Don’t take it personally, but he needs time to process everything that happened over the last 24 hours. I’ll keep you updated.”
Despite the best of his intentions, his answer doesn’t satisfy me. “But why? Why doesn’t he want to talk to me? Where’s he staying?”
“Petra…” He takes a deep breath, trying to find the best words to put on, yet nothing seems to come out. “Give him some time, alright?”
That’s all he has got to say? Wow. It’s clear Ryan wants to keep me in the dark, but I can’t figure why he can’t just tell me what’s really going on.
“Alright, thanks.” And I hang-up, still barely believing my husband isn’t coming back home after everything that happened. Why on earth is he doing that? Despite wanting to call him one more time, I refrain myself from doing so. The last thing I need is for him to believe I’m desperate. Hell, no! If he wants to play and torment me with his stupid game by all means, he can do as he wishes. I do however send him one last text: Just spoke to Ryan who told me you aren’t coming back home for the next few days. Wow. What a responsible adult you are. Btw, I’m doing the funeral in Bedford Hills this Sunday. You are welcome to join. Father Thomas will be flying in to do the Mass. Enjoy your private residence.” I want to call him a few names, but I refrain myself from doing so.
A minute or so after sending the text, my iPhone starts ringing again, and for the split of a second, I thought it was my husband who had just read my message and decided to explain himself to me. But alas it isn’t, and despite the disappointment, I draw out a breath, and pick the call.
“Good morning,” Matt sounds like a ray of sunshine casting light on my gloomy mind. “How are you feeling today?”
“Hey!” I try to match his tone but fail miserably. “Um, I’m okay more or less…”
Despite my answer, Matt keeps his voice just as joyful. “Guess who’s having her first prenatal check-up Friday at four p.m.?”
“Matt!” I snap back. “I can’t believe you booked it for me.”
“Of course I did, and I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t done it, you wouldn’t do it yourself until maybe next week or even the week after that.”
He isn’t wrong though. We still have to finalize the funeral arrangements and there are another gazillion things to do following the death of my mom.
“I’m not even sure if that test is accurate or not,” I insist. “Like, I don’t even have any symptoms…”
“One more reason to go, then,” he says just as fast. “At least you’ll be a hundred-percent sure.”
Heaving a sigh, I ponder his words. “Alright, I should be free around that time. But please, no more appointments without checking with me first.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he teases and his sense of humor brings a much-needed smile to my lips. “By the way, um, did you manage to talk to him? My dad told me Alex just got released an hour or so ago.”
His question takes my smile away, and I drop my gaze as I think of an answer to give him. “No, he isn’t answering me right now. I guess he’s just doing it as some sort of revenge because I did the same to him yesterday.”
“Damn,” he utters, before falling silent for a moment, most likely not knowing what else to say. “I’m sorry for his behavior.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him. “I guess it’s what we can call payback.”
“Do you want to come over and we spend the day studying here or at the library?” he asks, most likely in an attempt to change the subject.
“Um, I have a few things to do today, but we’ll see each other on Friday for the check-up.”
“Alright, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“Thanks for everything, Matt…” My voice is lower than usual, but it’s mainly because I don’t want Maria to hear me. “I really appreciate your support.”
“Always, girl,” he answers just as low.
As soon as we hang-up, I hear the doorbell echoing across the condo and footsteps walking through the hallway to open the door. That’s odd, it’s not even one-thirty, why would Dad arrive half an hour earlier? There’s a glimmer of hope thinking maybe it’s Alex who decided to come back. I leave the terrace and hurry up to check. Unfortunately, and to my greatest displeasure, my eyes alight on Carice who steps in, carrying a few files with her. Oh shit! I had totally forgotten I had agreed on meeting her for lunch.
Despite wearing her usual black suit, with a black turtle neck underneath and matching glasses, she looks a lot less stern than yesterday, maybe a bit more relaxed too. I imagine the death of her best friend must have left her in a state of near-depression, but she seems to be coping with it relatively okay. As her eyes set on me, she gives me a bright smile and paces in my direction.
“You didn’t forget about our meet-up at one, right?” she asks, visibly amused.
“Of course not,” I answer, walking forward to give her three cheek-kisses. Then I invite her to the terrace where we take a seat at the table.
After doing some small talk, Carice takes a document from her files and says, “As you probably know, your mom had a life insurance so that if something happened to her, you could receive the fund to pay for the expenses of the funeral, and keep the rest for you.” I nod at her, and she glances once more at the document, before proceeding. “The insurance company received all the paperwork this morning, so you should receive around two million and four hundred euros in your account by next week.” My jaw drops at her announcement. Wow. I never thought Mom had such a high coverage in case of her death, which leads me to believe she knew sooner or later that she’d die at their hands. She was most likely planning her death for the past few months.
Then Carice takes another file and says, “Regarding the nonprofit, your mom was the managing director and main owner of the organization… Since you’re now the new titular, I was wondering if you’d like to appoint a new director?”
My brows raise up at her question. I find it touching that despite Carice being my Mom’s best friend, she still decided to leave her nonprofit to me—which I barely know anything about. “Oh, um, would you be interested in taking over in my place?” I ask her. Carice immediately stares at me with astonishment, so I try my best to convince her, before she can make her mind. “I know you work there as an attorney, but you were also my mom’s best friend, and she trusted you a lot. I’m pretty sure she’d have wanted for you to take over the organization.”
Her lips curve up in appreciation, and she remains silent for a while, considering my proposal. “I think you are right. We can expend the legal team, get some new lawyers on board, and I’ll take over the management.”
“I could also donate a million euros from my Mom’s insurance to the nonprofit,” I say. “With such a capital injection, it should give you some room to operate, right?”
Now she stares at me even more surprised. “Oh, wow. That’s…” she pauses, searching for the best words to put on. “Well, that’s very kind of you, but this is a lot.”
“How many months can you last with it?” I ask.
“I haven’t check the finances of the company, but I’d say around eighteen months.”
“Well, then that’s plenty of time to keep the firm afloat and to expand it. My mom loved her nonprofit and I’m sure she’d have wanted to grow it further.” I notice some glitz in her gaze as she listens to me talking. “Do you have a team that takes care of fundraising?”
“We do, but we raise mostly through charity events where we invite family offices, NHW individuals, and so on… Your mom used to host them…” There’s the faint of a smile settling on her lips as she recalls those memories. “She was such a great host. They used to write us big checks thanks to her charisma…”
I smile tenderly at her words; despite knowing Mom used to attend many charity events, I never thought those events where to fundraise for her nonprofit. “I’m sure, you’ll manage to do the same, regardless of her being here or not,” I say, keeping my voice warm.
A few instants of silence ensues while Carice takes some notes before proceeding. “About the funeral, did you decide on the location?”
“Yes, we’ll do it in Bedford Hills this Sunday and Father Thomas already confirmed he’ll fly over on Saturday. Emma is getting a mortician and an event planner so that we can have a beautiful setting in her honor.”
“Oh, that's great. Good job,” she praises, as she ticks off some of the things in her list. “As you might know, Eric’s office did a press release yesterday and your mom’s death has been communicated to the Dutch media too. A few reporters would like to attend the funeral and cover it. I know them personally, would that be okay with you?”
“Yes, of course. Just let me know how many people from your side will attend so that we can arrange everything properly,” I tell her.
“From my side, I can confirm at least twenty people––from friends and coworkers––can attend. Then maybe five reporters and their cameramen will go on top of that.”
As I do the math, it seems like we will have around fifty people, which is perfect, since I didn’t want to do something too big.
“Good afternoon…”
I turn immediately, recognizing the male voice behind me and my eyes fall upon my dad, who looks more tired than usual, but just as elegant and formal.
“Hi dad,” I greet as we stand up. “Carice, this is my dad, Roy…”
“I know.” Carice stiffens up as she shakes his hand, a forced smile on her lips. All of a sudden though, someone’s phone starts ringing, but I know it’s not mine as it’s a different ringtone. Carice takes her phone and after checking who’s calling, leaves the table. “Excuse me,” she says as she walks past me and goes to a quieter area of the terrace.
Once we are left alone, Dad gives me a cheek-kiss and leans forward as if he’s about to whisper something.
“What is she doing here?” His tone is barely audible.
“Um, we are just taking care of the funeral and some details about Mom’s nonprofit,” I say.
Dad gives a quick glance over my shoulder, before proceeding, “Do know what are they up to?”
I frown at his question. “What do you mean?”
“The Bradfords and Carice,” Dad says. “I imagine Alex is their suspect number one, no?”
“Yeah…” I let my word trails off as I consider him. “I think they’re gathering as much evidence as possible before the trial.”
“Do you know if they have anything good?”
“I suppose,” I tell him. “They know about Janette’s death.”
Dad’s eyes widen in surprise as my words sink into him. “They do?”
“Mom gave Eric the police report,” I explain. “But I don’t think they are after you…”
“Are they gonna tell Jan?” he keeps pushing, the reality hitting him hard. I watch as he adjusts his shirt collar uncomfortably.
“I don’t know,” I answer as sincerely as I can.
“Petra?” I hear Carice calling. Then I turn, my eyes alighting on her. “Eric wants to talk to you.”
Oh, that’s Eric over the phone? Now that’s interesting…
I walk over to where she’s standing, and she gives me her phone.
“Yes?” I take a few steps away from Carice, so that I can be left alone to talk with him.
“Petra, how are you?”
“Hi Eric. I’m doing well, thank you,” I say, impatient to know what he’s up to.
“Look, we just got the results from the lab, and um, it seems like your mom was, in fact, poisoned.”
“Oh my gosh,” the words roll off my tongue. “But how?”
“That’s the problem here––the lab found some traces of nanotechnology in her bloodstream. We don’t know yet how she got it, but it’s inside her body and those nano-particles had the opportunity to attack her organs at any moment. They essentially just needed to be activated.”
“Can they be activated from the outside?” I ask.
“Yes, which makes me believe your mom didn’t escape as she told us, but was freed instead. This is definitely not some random plant you can buy and use to poison someone, it’s a highly illegal bioweapon.” My heart freezes at his words—this was premeditated, Mom was destined to die if she ever tried to talk to me. “Do you know anyone who could have access to it?”
I ponder for a moment his question. “Well, Maud is a scientist and she works at a lab. I’m not sure what kind of projects she works on, so I don’t know if she’d have access to this kind of technology or not.”
“Who’s Maud?” Eric asks immediately.
“Oh, um, one of Alex’s sisters. She’s very reserved and quiet, so I don’t know too much about her.”
“Is she coming to the funeral?” he keeps enquiring.
“Emma’s trying to persuade my in-laws to come, so we’ll see.”
“It’d be great if I could talk to her. Either way, it’s the first time in my career that anyone has been killed with nanotech, what a year to be alive.”
“Are you gonna do another press release about it?” I ask him, already worried he’s gonna do a new one. “I don’t think the public needs to know those details.”
“Well, Tess was quite well known in her country, I’m sure the public wants to know of what it is that she died from.”
“They already know it was from a cardiac arrest, they don’t need to know the gritty details,” I argue. “If the news goes out, Maud might not come over.”
Eric remains quiet for a few moments as he considers me. “True, I won’t do any press release until her funeral. I have to go now.” And to my greatest surprise, he just hangs-up without even saying good bye.