The Nanny Cam

Chapter 09 - The House on Harbor Road

Adrian didn’t get far.

Marisol had already alerted the deputy, and the security team at the front gate had logged his car leaving fast enough to leave tire marks on the drive. But by the time anyone caught up to him, he had made it to Harbor Road—the old family property on the water where he had lived alone since his divorce and where Diane claimed he kept “papers he didn’t trust the office with.”

Rachel stayed home with the children.

That decision nearly killed her.

Every protective instinct in her body wanted to go with Marcus, to stand in every doorway between him and his brother, to see with her own eyes whatever else the house was hiding. But Lily woke screaming from a nightmare the moment Marcus reached for his coat, and Noah refused to let go of Rachel’s hand.

So Marcus went with Marisol and the deputy.

Elena stayed with Rachel.

Sometimes the women who remain in the house do the bravest work.

They sat in the nursery after midnight under the low lamp, Lily asleep curled against Rachel’s side, Noah in her lap, and waited for calls. Elena brought chamomile tea Rachel didn’t drink. She also brought, quietly, the household ledger from the service pantry.

“I almost forgot,” she said. “Mrs. Diane had me pay a courier three times this month. The packages all went to Harbor Road.”

Rachel looked up.

Inside the ledger were dates, signatures, and one name repeated in Elena’s neat script:

Briar Women’s Recovery Center.

Rachel frowned. “What is that?”

Elena sat down slowly.

“A private clinic. Or they say it is. Claire stayed there for ten days before the divorce papers were filed.”

Rachel looked at her.

“And after?”

Elena’s voice dropped.

“After, they wrote that she was not fit to care for an infant without supervision.”

Rachel’s whole body went still.

A clinic.

A diagnosis.

A paper trail.

There it was again.

Not fists.

Records.

Always records.

Marcus called forty minutes later.

He sounded like a man trying not to wake children through a telephone.

“You were right to stay,” he said first, which meant he knew exactly how hard it had been.

Then: “You need to hear this. We found a file cabinet in the basement. And baby photos.”

Rachel’s breath caught.

“Emma?”

“I think so.”

In the background she could hear the deputy moving around, drawers opening, paper rustling.

Marcus continued. “There are letters from Briar. Copies of court motions. Receipts to a private investigator in Oregon. And—” He stopped.

“And what?”

“There’s a locked fire box,” he said. “Marisol says we have to wait for a warrant if he won’t open it.”

Adrian, apparently, had not been arrested that night. Not yet. He’d been found at the house, furious but composed, insisting everything was privileged family material and that Rachel was orchestrating “an emotional coup.” The deputy had confiscated the stolen guardianship folder, but without the additional warrant they could not open the box.

Rachel was about to respond when she heard another voice in the background.

A woman.

Young.

Shaken.

“Marcus?” Rachel said. “Who’s there?”

Silence.

Then he answered carefully.

“Harbor Road has a guest room upstairs. Someone’s been staying there.”

Rachel gripped the phone tighter.

“Who?”

“A girl,” he said. “Maybe nineteen. Maybe twenty. She says Adrian hired her six weeks ago under another name.”

Rachel’s heartbeat stuttered.