He Called at 3 AM to Move the Car, I Called 911 to Move the Body Chapter 05

He Called at 3 AM to Move the Car, I Called 911 to Move the Body Chapter 05

Detective Vance pushed her aside.

“Pull it.”

An officer put on gloves and lifted the tarp.

A black body bag was revealed. Ice had formed around the zipper, and dark red frozen stains seeped from

underneath it.

My ears rang.

Brian turned and ran.

I moved faster than the officers.

I rushed after him, kicked the back of his knee, and sent him crashing to the ground. His nose hit the

concrete.

“Nora Hayes, you hit me!”

I grabbed his hair and shoved his face toward the bag.

“Where were you going? You said it was client cargo, right? Open your eyes. Tell me what you were hiding!”

Brian thrashed like a dying fish.

Detective Vance barked, “Secure him!”

Two officers pinned him down.

Susan collapsed on the floor, muttering, “It’s over… it’s over…”

Wendy was shaking too hard to stand straight. She was still pretending.

“I didn’t know… I swear I didn’t know anything was there…”

I walked up to her.

She stepped back instinctively.

I raised my hand and slapped her across the face.

The crack echoed through the warehouse.

Wendy clutched her cheek, tears spilling.

“You hit me?”

I stared at her, my voice shaking but sharp.

“You asked me if I was done causing trouble.

Now it’s my turn to ask you.

Was using someone’s life as a stepping stone enough to get you where you wanted?”

Detective Vance raised his voice. “Brian Brooks, Wendy Miller, Susan Brooks-all of you, detained!”

The cuffs clicked shut.

I pointed at the black bag at the back of the cold unit, looking at their pale faces.

“Whoever calls me crazy again-say it kneeling in front of that bag.”

The coroner arrived just before dawn.

Unit 7 was sealed off. Everyone was moved behind the police tape.

I stood at the entrance, feet weak, but I refused to step back.

Detective Vance looked at me. “Nora, you should rest.”

I shook my head. “I need to see.”

He didn’t stop me.

The bag was carried out.

When the zipper opened, I nearly blacked out.

The body had been frozen and the face had been treated. But the ring was still there.

A silver-gray band. Two letters engraved on the inside.

Nora Hayes.

I had put that ring on Ethan Brooks’s finger myself.

I rushed forward. Detective Vance caught me.

“Nora!”

I grabbed his sleeve, my voice barely a whisper.

“It’s him. Detective Vance, it’s Ethan.”

I finally said what I’d known slice that 3:06 AM call.

The person who called me wore Ethan’s voice.

But Ethan was already gone.

Because I couldn’t drive. I didn’t have a license. When I was twenty-six, I was in the passenger seat during a

crash. I watched the airbag explode. Ever since, I wouldn’t even touch a steering wheel.

Ethan knew that from our first date. After we married, he kept all the car keys in his own bag. He said: “You

don’t have to learn. I’ll drive you for life”

He knew I wouldn’t go down to the garage alone at night. He knew I’d flinch at the sight of a car.

If he were alive, he would never call me at 3 AM to move a car. Never use that cold tone. Never call me “Nora

Hayes.

11

He always called me “Little Branch.”

So I called the police. I reported that he had killed someone and hidden a body.

I didn’t have evidence. I only had that call. That one sentence-“move the car.” The words that sent chills

down my spine.

Detective Vance’s face was grim. “Why didn’t you say this earlier?”

I looked at the evidence bags being sealed inside the unit.

“If I’d just said I couldn’t drive, you’d have thought it was a marital quirk. Saying murder and body disposal

got you here immediately. Detective Vance, I gambled right.”

I also lost.

The body I found was my husband’s.

The coroner removed the ring and bagged it. I reached out, then stopped myself.

Don’t contaminate the evidence.

Ethan was such a clean freak. If he saw me touching the scene, he’d frown.

I almost laughed at the thought.

Then the tears came.

Detective Vance said quietly, “My condolences.”

I wiped my face. “Not yet.”

I turned and pointed at Brian, who was cuffed by the squad car, his face gray.

“Check his shoes. Check his clothes fibers. Check his phone for overseas gambling records.”

I pointed at Wendy.

“Check her computer. She knows editing. She manages the company social accounts. She has voice samples

of Ethan. That video-it’s probably fabricated.”

Finally, I looked at Susan. She sat on the ground, hair a mess, stili muttering that Brian was just a child.

I said coldly, “Check her car. She entered the lot at 1:47 AM. She must have brought something in.”

Susan’s head snapped up, eyes red.

“Nora Hayes, I’m Ethan’s mother! Are you going to bite me too?”

I crouched down in front of her.

“If you were really his mother, when that bag opened, you’d have cried for him first. But your first look was

at Brian.”

Her lips trembled. She couldn’t speak.

I stood up.

“Detective Vance, please work fast. I’m afraid they’ll clean themselves up if you give them any more time.”

He nodded. “Take them away.”

The sirens started.

As Brian was loaded into the police car, he twisted around and glared at me. Like a snake.

I met his eyes and said slowly:

“Brian Brooks, you’d better start praying now. Pray your brother didn’t suffer too much. Because if he did,

I’ll make sure you feel every second of it.”