PART6-I Let a Homeless Man With a Leg Brace Sleep on Our Couch for One Night—When I Came Home From Work, I Froze at What He Had Done
PART 6
I called the police again and gave them everything I had found.
Twenty minutes later, two officers arrived.
They inspected the camera.
They photographed the door.
They spoke to me separately.
One of them asked,
“Did you invite the man into your home?”
“Yes.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he damage anything?”
“No.”
“Then why do you believe he is involved?”
I showed them the accident report.
The officer read it carefully.
His expression changed.
“You’re saying your landlord was connected to this accident?”
“According to this report.”
He looked at his partner.
“Interesting.”
They searched the apartment.
Then one officer crouched behind the refrigerator.
He examined the wall.
“There’s another device.”
I felt sick.
Another camera.
This one was wired into the electrical outlet.
The officer carefully removed it.
“Whoever installed these knew what they were doing.”
I thought about Marcus.
Then the officer asked,
“Did your guest mention anything about your landlord?”
“Only that I should be careful.”
“Did he say why?”
“No.”
The officer stood.
“Until we know more, don’t let your landlord inside.”
I nodded.
After they left, Liam and I sat on the couch.
Neither of us touched the soup.
Neither of us spoke.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I stared at it.
A text appeared.
You need to leave the apartment tonight.
I looked at Liam.
Another message arrived.
Don’t call the police again.
My hands went numb.
Then a third.
Your son is not safe there.
I stood up so quickly that Liam jumped.
“Mom?”
I didn’t answer.
I called the number.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then went to voicemail.
A man’s voice came through.
Quiet.
Breathing heavily.
Then:
“Chloe.”
I recognized him.
“Marcus?”
Silence.
Then he said,
“I didn’t have time to explain.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“You put cameras in my apartment?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
Another silence.
“Marcus!”
“I removed them.”
“What?”
“I found them this morning.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know who I could trust.”
I looked toward the front door.
“Tell me what is happening.”
His voice became quieter.
“Your landlord isn’t watching you because of the rent.”
“Then why?”
“Because of what’s inside your apartment.”
I stared at the walls.
“What?”
“I don’t know exactly.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I found a document.”
“What document?”
“A maintenance record.”
My heart began pounding.
“What does it say?”
“It has your apartment number.”
“So?”
“It also has the date of my accident.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Marcus continued.
“The elevator that injured me was serviced two days before the accident.”
“By your company?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Your landlord.”
I closed my eyes.
He said,
“Daniel Harris wasn’t just involved in the investigation. He owned the subcontracting company that performed the maintenance.”
I felt the room spinning.
“Why would he put cameras in my apartment?”
“I don’t know.”
“You must know something.”
“I know enough to tell you this.”
His voice cracked.
“Whatever they’re looking for, they think you have it.”
I looked at the walls.
The floor.
The ceiling.
The kitchen.
Nothing made sense.
“I don’t have anything.”
“You might.”
“What?”
“The apartment.”
I frowned.
“What about it?”
Marcus took a breath.
“Chloe, how long have you lived there?”
“Seven years.”
“Before you moved in, did anyone tell you the apartment had been renovated?”
“Yes.”
“Did they tell you why?”
“No.”
He went silent.
Then he said the words that changed everything.
“Because a man died in that apartment before you moved in.”
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