Chapter 3 - The Red File
Edward was admitted to a private room at St. Catherine Medical Center shortly after five that evening.
Doctors found no major physical injury, but dehydration, elevated stress markers, and signs that he had missed at least one scheduled medication dose concerned them.
Nia sat beside his bed while a nurse adjusted the supports around his shoulders.
“You’re safe,” Nia said.
Edward looked at her.
She wished she believed herself.
A Connecticut State Police detective named Marcus Bell entered with a tablet tucked beneath one arm.
He was in his late forties, calm and deliberate.
“Ms. Harrington?”
Nia stood.
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Bell. I need to speak with your father when his physicians permit it.”
“He can answer you.”
“I understand.”
Nia hesitated.
“My father has cerebral palsy. People sometimes assume he doesn’t understand because his speech is difficult.”
Bell looked at Edward.
“Mr. Harrington, I won’t make that assumption.”
Edward’s eyes softened slightly.
Bell continued.
“I’ll structure questions so you can answer clearly. If you need a communication device or speech specialist, we’ll arrange one.”
Two blinks.
Bell nodded.
Nia felt something inside her loosen.
Then her phone rang.
Vincent.
She stared at his name.
Bell noticed.
“You don’t have to answer.”
Nia declined the call.
A second later, a text arrived.
NIA, THIS IS A MISUNDERSTANDING. DO NOT LET POLICE TURN YOUR FATHER AGAINST ME.
She laughed in disbelief.
Her father was lying in a hospital bed because Vincent had placed him in a coffin.
And Vincent was worried about influence.
Another text appeared.
WE NEED TO TALK BEFORE YOU FIND SOMETHING YOU’LL MISUNDERSTAND.
Nia showed Bell.
His expression remained neutral.
“What would I find?” she whispered.
Bell did not answer directly.
“We’ve secured the mansion pending a search warrant for specific areas. Your father mentioned a desk.”
“Red.”
Bell looked toward Edward.
“Mr. Harrington, is ‘red’ related to something inside your office?”
Two blinks.
“A red folder?”
One blink.
Nia frowned.
“A red box?”
Two blinks.
Bell typed.
“Is it locked?”
Two blinks.
“Does Vincent know what’s inside?”
Edward hesitated.
Then blinked twice.
Nia’s stomach tightened.
Bell continued carefully.
“Is the red box evidence of financial wrongdoing?”
Two blinks.
“By Vincent?”
Two blinks.
Nia looked away.
Edward made a sound.
She turned back.
His face held something more painful than fear.
Apology.
“Daddy?”
He fought through the stiffness in his jaw.
“Should… told…”
Nia understood.
“You knew something was wrong.”
Edward closed his eyes.
Bell stopped the questioning.
“That’s enough for now.”
When he left, Nia remained beside the window.
The evening sky had turned violet over Hartford County.
Her phone rang again.
This time it was Claire.
Nia answered.
“Hello?”
“How is he?”
“Stable.”
Claire exhaled.
“Thank God.”
Nia looked at Edward.
“Claire, why were you at the house?”
There was a pause.
“Vincent called our funeral home around nine this morning.”
“You said that.”
“He gave us what appeared to be a physician contact and said your father had died peacefully under home supervision.”
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
Nia heard unease in Claire’s voice.
“What changed?”
“The physician contact number.”
“What about it?”
“It went to voicemail immediately. The message sounded generic. I called the medical practice directly through a number I found independently.”
Nia’s grip tightened.
“And?”
“They had no record of your father being their patient.”
Nia went cold.
“So why did you come?”
“Because Vincent became aggressive when I asked questions. He insisted everything was legal and said the family wanted the coffin brought to the mansion before formal transport arrangements.”
Claire paused.
“I refused.”
“But there was already a coffin there.”
“Yes.”
“Was it yours?”
“No.”
Nia stared at the hospital wall.
“Then where did it come from?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire continued.
“I contacted you because your number was listed as the emergency family contact in an older public business profile. I told you I needed to discuss an urgent matter regarding your father. I didn’t want to accuse anyone over the phone.”
Nia remembered the strange call.
Claire had sounded serious but guarded.
Nia had left work immediately and met her outside the mansion.
If Claire had not checked.
If she had simply trusted Vincent.
Nia looked at Edward.
The coffin lid might have closed.
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
There was silence.
Then Claire said, “He was watching us, Nia.”
“Who?”
“Vincent.”
“Today?”
“No. Before.”
Nia’s skin prickled.
“What do you mean?”
“When we walked into the memorial room, I saw a camera indicator above the bookshelf.”
Nia knew the smart-home camera.
Edward used it to communicate with caregivers if he needed assistance.
“Those cameras are part of Dad’s medical monitoring system.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because the indicator was off when I entered.”
Nia frowned.
“So?”
Claire lowered her voice.
“Then Vincent looked toward it.”
“And?”
“It turned on.”
Nia stared at Edward.
Someone had remote access to her father’s medical camera.
Someone who had disabled it during the coffin incident and reactivated it after witnesses arrived.
Before Nia could respond, Detective Bell returned.
He was holding a clear evidence bag.
Inside it was a small red metal box.
“We found this in your father’s desk.”
Nia stood.
“Was it locked?”
“Yes.”
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Bell looked toward Edward.
“And someone had already tried to force it open.”
