Chapter 3 - The 911 Dispatcher
I grabbed the heavy bronze lamp from the nightstand and raised it like a weapon.
The brass doorknob began to turn slowly, clicking as someone tried to push it open.
I quickly slid the deadbolt into place, ignoring the polite knock that followed.
Marcus called my name through the thick wood, asking why the master bedroom was locked.
I forced my voice to sound completely normal and told him I was changing my clothes.
He lingered for a terrifying moment before I heard his heavy footsteps retreat down the hallway.
I turned back to Annie, realizing she was far too calm for a maid caught in a home invasion.
I demanded to know who she really was and why she had applied to work in my home.
She took a deep breath and confessed that she had never worked as a housekeeper in her life.
Fourteen months ago, she was a 911 emergency dispatcher for the county.
She was the operator who had answered Lauren’s frantic call on the night of the crash.
The official police report claimed my wife died instantly on impact and never made a phone call.
Annie pulled a small audio recorder from the deep pocket of her apron.
She told me she had illegally copied the dispatch recording before her supervisor erased the master file.
She had spent the last year trying to get close to me because she knew the police were corrupt.
I snatched the recorder from her hand and pressed the play button.
The sound of my dead wife’s voice filled the room, making my knees buckle instantly.
Lauren was screaming over the sound of screeching tires, begging for help.
She shouted that she had found the offshore accounts and that Marcus was trying to run her off the road.
The recording ended with the horrific sound of crunching metal and shattered glass.
I stared at the wall, realizing the man I trusted with my life had murdered my wife.
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Suddenly, every single light in the massive house completely shut off.
The heavy steel security shutters slammed down over the bedroom windows, plunging us into total darkness.
