Chapter 7 - The Caregiver Who Vanished
Marisol Vega had cared for Edward five days a week for almost three years.
She knew how he preferred his support cushions positioned.
She knew which muscle spasms meant pain and which meant frustration.
She knew his medication schedule better than Vincent ever had.
And she had disappeared two days before the coffin incident.
Nia had assumed Marisol was visiting family.
That was what Vincent told her.
Police found no flight reservation.
No family emergency.
No resignation.
Only a text message sent from Marisol’s phone to Edward’s household manager.
I need time away. Please don’t contact me.
Detective Bell did not believe it.
Neither did Nia.
They located Marisol that afternoon at her sister’s apartment in Bridgeport.
She had not been hiding from police.
She had been hiding from Vincent.
When Nia entered the apartment with Bell, Marisol began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Nia sat across from her.
“Tell me what happened.”
Marisol twisted a tissue between her fingers.
“Mr. Vincent told me Mr. Edward wanted privacy.”
“When?”
“Wednesday morning.”
Two days before the coffin.
“He said your father was changing his care plan and I should take paid leave.”
“Did Dad tell you that?”
“No.”
“Then why did you leave?”
Marisol looked ashamed.
“Because Mr. Vincent showed me a message.”
“What message?”
“From your father’s communication account.”
Edward sometimes used a secure tablet to message staff.
Marisol continued.
“It said I was dismissed for violating confidentiality.”
Nia frowned.
“Did that sound like him?”
“No.”
“Then why believe it?”
Marisol looked toward Bell.
“Because Mr. Vincent knew something.”
Her voice dropped.
“My son.”
Nia waited.
Marisol’s twenty-two-year-old son had been arrested the previous year for possession of stolen electronics.
The charge had been reduced.
Marisol had never told Edward.
“I was afraid Mr. Harrington would think I was dishonest because I kept it private.”
“Dad wouldn’t punish you for your son’s mistake.”
“I know that now.”
“What did Vincent do?”
“He said if I caused trouble, he would tell your father I had been stealing medication.”
Nia’s face hardened.
“Were you?”
“No.”
Marisol looked horrified.
“I would never.”
Bell asked, “Did he threaten to report you?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
Marisol nodded.
“He offered me ten thousand dollars.”
Nia stared at her.
“For what?”
“To leave for one week.”
The room became silent.
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
“Then why leave?”
“Fear.”
Marisol looked at Nia.
“I thought I could stay with my sister, then call Mr. Edward directly when Mr. Vincent wasn’t there.”
“Did you?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“The calls would not connect.”
Bell wrote something down.
“Blocked?”
“I don’t know.”
Nia thought of the medical cameras.
The communication tablet.
Vincent had access to Edward’s digital environment.
Marisol wiped her eyes.
“There’s something else.”
She went into the bedroom and returned with an old smartphone.
“I recorded him.”
Nia leaned forward.
“When?”
“The day he offered me money.”
Marisol unlocked the phone.
The audio was rough but clear.
Vincent’s voice.
You’re making this harder than it needs to be.
Marisol’s voice answered.
Mr. Edward did not fire me.
Vincent:
Edward can barely sign his own name anymore. Do you really think anyone is going to believe you understand what he wants better than his family?
Marisol:
Nia will.
Then Vincent laughed.
The sound made Nia’s stomach turn.
Nia believes what I tell her.
The recording continued.
A chair moved.
Paper rustled.
Then Vincent said something quieter.
Once this is done, there won’t be anyone left to argue.
Marisol stopped the recording.
Nia looked at Bell.
“That’s not enough to prove he planned murder.”
“No,” Bell said. “But it matters.”
Marisol shook her head.
“There’s more.”
She advanced the recording.
Vincent’s voice returned.
I only need forty-eight hours. After that, everything will be legal.
Marisol:
What happens in forty-eight hours?
Vincent:
Edward stops being a problem.
Nia closed her eyes.
She had slept beside Vincent that night.
She remembered him climbing into bed after midnight.
He had kissed her shoulder.
Asked whether she wanted coffee in the morning.
Nothing in his voice had sounded different.
Marisol touched Nia’s hand.
“I should have told you.”
Nia looked at her.
“He made you afraid.”
“I still left Mr. Edward.”
“You came forward.”
“After.”
Nia understood what Marisol meant.
After the coffin.
After almost losing him.
Guilt did not disappear because someone had been manipulated.
That was another painful truth.
Bell asked for the phone.
Marisol handed it over.
Before they left, she stopped Nia.
“There was a second man.”
Nia turned.
“What?”
“At the mansion.”
“When?”
“The night before I left.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
Marisol described a tall White man in his fifties wearing a navy overcoat.
“He and Vincent were arguing in the study.”
“About what?”
“I heard only one sentence.”
Nia waited.
Marisol’s voice dropped.
“The man said, ‘If Harrington dies before you fix the paperwork, we both lose everything.’”
Nia felt her pulse change.
Until that moment, she had assumed Vincent’s plan belonged to Vincent.
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Now there was someone else.
And according to Marisol, that person believed Edward’s death could destroy him too.
