Chapter 7 - The Witness in the WoodsTwo weeks passed in a relentless, agonizing blur of hospital monitors, sterile hallways, and police briefings.
Against all odds, Maya’s tiny chest began to breathe on its own. The ventilator was removed on the tenth day, replaced by a simple nasal cannula delivering humidified oxygen. On the fourteenth day, her eyelids fluttered open for the first time, revealing dark, luminous eyes that blinked sleepily at the harsh NICU lights.
When Dr. Sterling officially cleared Maya for transfer out of the intensive care unit into a private recovery room where I could finally hold her in my arms, I wept until my chest ached.
While I was healing and bonding with my daughter upstairs, Detective Cole Voss was busy dismantling Derek Carter’s life piece by piece downstairs.
On a rainy Tuesday afternoon, Voss walked into my private hospital room carrying a thick red evidence folder and a heavy glass mug of black coffee.
“How’s the little fighter today?” Voss asked warmly, glancing at the bassinet where Maya was sleeping peacefully under a pink quilted blanket.
“She gained two ounces this morning,” I smiled, gently stroking Maya’s soft cheek with the back of my finger. “Dr. Sterling says if her vitals stay stable for another forty-eight hours, we can finally take her home.”
“That’s good news, because you’re going to need your strength for the preliminary trial hearings next month,” Voss said, pulling up a chair and setting the red folder on my lap. “We found something else hidden inside Derek’s office safe at his real estate firm.”
I opened the folder. Inside were several printed photographs of a rugged, middle-aged man with a weathered face, wearing a checkered flannel shirt and standing in front of a rustic log cabin in the Cascade foothills.
“Who is this?” I asked, frowning.
“That is Thomas Reed,” Voss explained. “He’s a retired logging contractor and your grandfather Arthur’s oldest friend. Two years ago, when your grandfather was growing frail, Derek hired Thomas to build a custom timber cabin on a plot of land your grandfather owned near North Bend.”
I looked closer at the photos. “What does this have to do with Derek’s arrest?”
“Everything,” Voss said grimly. “Thomas Reed came forward yesterday after seeing Derek’s mugshot on the evening news. He told my investigators that three weeks ago—right around the time Derek filed that fraudulent incompetence petition—Derek asked Thomas to clear a deep, secluded trench in the woods behind the North Bend cabin, exactly like the one he dug in your backyard.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine. “He... he was planning to build another grave.”
“Not just planning,” Voss said quietly. “Thomas said Derek specifically asked him if a freshly dug grave in the forest would show up on thermal imaging or satellite soil scans. When Thomas refused to help him and threatened to report the strange behavior, Derek threatened to ruin his construction business.”
I closed the folder, staring blankly at the wall. The depth of Derek’s premeditation was staggering. He hadn't just snapped in the backyard; he had engineered an entire logistical plan to make me disappear permanently, utilizing fake medical documents, stolen inheritances, and remote forest graves.
“Will Thomas testify at the trial?” I asked, my voice steady and cold.
“He’s already signed a sworn affidavit,” Voss confirmed, standing up and adjusting his jacket. “With his testimony, combined with Claire’s forty-seven-minute audio recording, the forensic financial audits, and the forged probate documents, the District Attorney is adding first-degree attempted premeditated murder and kidnapping conspiracy to the indictment.”
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He looked down at Maya sleeping in the bassinet, then back at me.
“You’re safe now, Tessa. The grand jury indictment is airtight. Derek Carter is never going to see the outside of a maximum-security prison.”
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