Chapter 5: The Woman in the Green Dress
Her name was Nora Callan.
Detective Osei told me that after she had taken my full statement, after Dana had reviewed the footage release authorization, after Sophie had been collected from the family room with a coloring book tucked under her arm that the officer had let her keep.
Nora Callan, thirty-one years old, from Evanston.
She had contacted the precinct herself at 8 a.m.
that morning, before Detective Osei had even finished her first coffee.
She had watched the news alert about an incident at the Whitmore Hotel wedding reception and she had called the non-emergency line and said, quietly, that she had been at that hotel last night and that she had information that might be relevant.
"Has she given a statement?" Dana asked.
"She's giving one now," Detective Osei said.
"In the room at the end of the hall."
Dana and I looked at each other.
"What's her connection to Preston?" I asked.
Detective Osei set her pen down.
"Ms.
Bennett, I can't share the details of her statement while it's in progress.
What I can tell you is that she came here voluntarily, she brought documentation, and she has been cooperative."
"The envelope," I said.
Detective Osei didn't confirm it.
She didn't deny it either.
"We'll be in touch," she said.
"Please don't leave the city for the next several days."
---
We were on the precinct steps when my father called.
I let it ring.
He called again.
I handed the phone to Dana without a word.
She answered it.
"Mr.
Bennett, this is Dana Reeves.
I'm Evelyn's legal counsel." A pause.
"Yes, that's correct." Another pause, longer.
"Mr.
Bennett, I'd encourage you to direct any further communication through me.
Evelyn won't be taking calls from family members directly while this matter is under investigation." She listened for a moment.
Her expression didn't change.
"I understand.
Goodbye."
She handed the phone back.
"What did he say?" I asked.
"He said this family has always handled its problems privately, and that you're making a mistake that will hurt Sophie more than anyone."
Sophie was standing two steps below us, examining a crack in the concrete with great focus.
"What did you say?" I asked.
"I said I'd pass that along." Dana tucked her folder under her arm.
"He'll try through your mother next.
Don't answer."
My mother's text came forty minutes later, while Sophie was asleep in the back of the cab on the way home.
*Preston made a mistake.
We know that.
But Nora Callan is a troubled young woman who has been trying to extort this family for months.
Your father has documentation.
Before you destroy your brother's life over a lie, call me.*
I read it twice.
Then I forwarded it to Dana.
Her reply came back in under a minute: *Screenshot and save everything.
Do not respond.*
---
I did not sleep well that night either.
I lay in the dark and thought about Nora Callan in a green dress, standing in a hotel corridor on what was supposed to be Preston's wedding night, holding an envelope, crying, trying to make him take it.
Not the behavior of someone running an extortion scheme.
The behavior of someone who had run out of other options.
I thought about the way Preston had pushed the envelope back.
Not the way you push away a threat.
The way you push away something you already know the contents of.
Something you have been pushing away for a long time.
At 2 a.m.
I got up and made tea and sat at the kitchen table and thought about every time in the last three years that Preston had seemed nervous around children.
Every time he had made a joke that landed slightly wrong.
Every time Madison had looked at him a certain way when she thought no one was watching.
I thought about a conversation I'd had with my mother eighteen months ago, when I'd mentioned that Preston seemed stressed.
*He has a lot on his plate*, she had said.
*What kind of things?* I had asked.
*Business things*, she had said.
*Nothing you need to worry about.*
I put my mug down.
She had known.
I didn't know what she had known, or how much, or for how long.
But the way she had gone still when Mr.
Holt mentioned the second clip — that was not the stillness of a woman hearing something for the first time.
That was the stillness of a woman hearing something she had hoped would stay buried.
---
Dana called at 8 a.m.
"Nora Callan's statement is complete," she said.
"Detective Osei called me this morning.
I can't share the full contents yet, but I want you to be prepared for what's coming."
"Tell me."
A breath.
"Nora Callan and Preston have a child together," Dana said.
"A boy.
He's two years old.
Preston has been denying paternity for eighteen months and refusing all contact.
The envelope contained a court-ordered DNA result.
He's the father."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"He has a son," I said.
"Yes."
"And he was going to marry Madison without telling her."
"He did marry Madison," Dana said.
"The ceremony completed before the incident.
They're legally married."
I thought about Madison.
Her horror at the bl00d on the runner.
Her covered mouth.
I had assumed she was cold.
I had assumed she was like him.
But maybe she simply hadn't known.
May you like
"Does Madison know?" I asked.
"As of this morning," Dana said, "she does."
