Chapter 3 - Nora’s Video
Nora did not send it immediately.
She called.
I put phone on speaker only after Officer Reed explained I could choose, and I told Nora police were with me.
Her voice shook.
“I didn’t mean anything bad.”
“What video?”
“I was filming Eli.”
“Why?”
“He looked cute with key.”
My son lay asleep behind curtain with gauze over back.
I closed eyes.
“Send it.”
“Derek is going to kill me.”
“No one is going to kill you.”
Officer Reed leaned toward phone.
“Nora, this is Officer Reed. If you have evidence related to an injury investigation, preserve it. Do not edit, delete, or send it around socially. You can provide it directly to us.”
Silence.
Then:
“Okay.”
Police arranged transfer.
I saw later through investigator.
Thirty-seven seconds.
Bright sun.
Trailer.
Eli smiling.
Blue key dangling.
Nora’s voice:
“Look at the little marina man.”
Derek laughed.
Then pointed toward rear side of trailer.
“You’re on plate duty.”
Eli saluted.
“What do I do?”
“Stand right there and tell me if Grandpa’s fancy bracket gets close to the post.”
Nora laughed.
“Derek.”
“What? He’s good.”
Then Derek crouched.
“Listen, buddy. Stay where I put you. Don’t wander.”
Eli:
“Okay.”
Then video ended.
It did not show impact.
Did not need.
It proved assignment.
Derek had placed child beside area where trailer would move.
No need debate whether Eli wandered.
Then Officer Reed asked Nora why she initially requested secrecy.
She cried.
“Walter told everyone we need to keep this in family.”
“When?”
“After ambulance left.”
I had already gone.
“What did he say?”
Nora:
“He said if this becomes a police thing, Derek loses everything and the trust company will come down on us again.”
Officer Reed looked at me.
“Trust company?”
I had no idea.
“What trust company?”
Nora stopped.
“I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“The lake house isn’t technically Walter’s.”
My stomach tightened.
“My parents own it.”
Nora:
“Derek says some trust does.”
I had never heard.
Then:
“What does ‘come down on us again’ mean?”
Silence.
“Nora.”
She whispered:
“There was another trailer thing.”
My heartbeat changed.
“When?”
“Before I dated Derek.”
“How do you know?”
“Walter talks about it whenever Derek backs boat.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know exactly. Some cousin got knocked down or something.”
Officer Reed began taking notes.
Then Nora said:
“Walter always tells Derek, ‘No kids behind the trailer again.’”
The room went quiet.
Eli’s injury was not first warning.
Maybe not first child.
Then Nora said:
“Megan, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I laughed when Derek gave him the job.”
I had no comfort.
“Give police everything.”
“I will.”
Then:
“Please don’t hate me.”
I looked at sleeping five-year-old.
“I don’t have time to decide.”
I ended call.
Officer Reed asked:
“Do you know anything about prior incident?”
“No.”
“Family trust?”
“No.”
That was answer too often that day.
Then she said:
“We’ll request scene preservation and speak to your parents.”
I suddenly remembered house cameras.
Dad installed security system after boat thefts at nearby properties.
Driveway camera pointed toward gravel and garage.
“Officer.”
“Yes?”
“There’s a camera.”
“Where?”
“Driveway.”
Her expression changed.
“Does it cover trailer area?”
“I think so.”
She called local officers immediately.
Twenty minutes later, she returned.
“What?”
“The system shows a gap from approximately six minutes before your 911 call until thirty minutes after ambulance left.”
My stomach dropped.
“Camera broken?”
“Unknown.”
“Who has access?”
“Dad.”
“Anyone else?”
“Derek maybe.”
Then I remembered Dad standing near side door after ambulance.
He had not come to hospital.
May you like
He had stayed with trailer.
And suddenly his panic about my phone made more sense.
