For the first time since I had known him, Andrew’s careful mask broke completely.
He looked at me with naked hatred.
“You stupid woman,” he hissed.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve ruined?”
I thought of every dinner at which he had corrected me in front of his mother.
Every time he had moved money without explaining where it went.
Every night he had told me I was too emotional, too forgetful, too suspicious.
“Your plan,” I said.
Detective Reynolds found an audio file attached to one of the messages.
It had been recorded three nights before the hit-and-run.
At first, there was only static and the muffled scrape of a chair.
Then Katie’s voice came through the speaker.
“Why is my name on that paper?”
Andrew answered sharply.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
“It says insurance.”
“Give it to me.”
There was a rustle, followed by Katie’s frightened protest.
“I’m telling Mom.”
Andrew’s voice dropped.
“No, you’re not.”
The recording ended.
I covered my mouth.
Katie must have activated the recorder accidentally while holding her phone.
She had probably forgotten it was running when she entered the office and found the policy.
Andrew stopped struggling.
Reynolds looked at him.
“You knew she had seen the insurance documents.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves motive.
The messages suggest planning.
Her statement identifies you as the person who pushed her.
The fiber on your jacket appears consistent with her school uniform, and your printed movie ticket appears to be an alibi that no one has verified.”
“I went to the movie.”
“Then the theater cameras will show you arriving.”
Andrew said nothing.
The officers led him outside.
Neighbors had gathered along the sidewalk.
