Chapter 5 - The Insurance Policy
I stared at the three death certificates, my hands trembling so violently I nearly dropped the paper.
Three women, three "accidental falls," and three dead wives before me.
"He is a serial killer," Emily whispered in absolute horror, covering her mouth.
I sifted through the remaining papers in the heavy leather briefcase.
Behind the death certificates was a stack of life insurance policies.
Each policy had paid out exactly five million dollars upon the accidental death of the spouse.
My blood turned to ice when I reached the very last folder in the stack.
It was a life insurance policy with my name printed at the top in bold letters.
"Emily, look at the date on this," I choked out, pointing to the bottom of the page.
The policy for ten million dollars had been finalized and signed exactly three days ago.
"He didn't just beat you because he wanted a son," Emily realized, her eyes wide with terror.
"He tortured you to make it look like a tragic miscarriage before he finally killed you."
The realization hit me like a physical blow to the stomach.
My baby's death was not just an act of rage; it was part of a calculated financial slaughter.
"We have to take this to the FBI, right now," Emily declared, slamming the briefcase shut.
"We cannot trust the local police, Marcus controls all of them."
I nodded, agreeing that federal authorities were our only hope.
We left the motel and drove toward the nearest FBI field office in the city.
We parked two blocks away to avoid any local police cruisers that might be watching the building.
I limped beside Emily, clutching the briefcase tightly to my chest like a shield.
As we approached the grand federal building, my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket.
I had bought a cheap burner phone at a gas station an hour ago.
Only one person in the world had the number.
I answered it, expecting to hear the voice of the sympathetic nurse from the hospital.
Instead, my mother's voice came through the speaker, sounding completely frantic.
"Rachel, you have to come home immediately!" my mother cried.
"Mom, what is wrong? Where are you?" I asked, panic rising in my chest.
May you like
"Daniel is here, Rachel," she sobbed into the phone.
"He says if you do not bring his briefcase back to the house in one hour, he is going to kill your father."
