Chapter 2 - The Silent Investigation
By nine o’clock that evening, we were sitting in a private conference room at the Maple Valley Police Department.
Detective Marcus Vance, a seasoned investigator with a sharp, discerning gaze, sat across from us. On the table between us were the six gold cans, individually bagged in clear evidence plastic, alongside the torn fake labels and the medical report I had pulled up from the National Health Registry regarding Batch #884-B.
Detective Vance put on a pair of black latex gloves, carefully turning over the fourth can to inspect the hazard stamp under a magnifying lamp.
“Where did you say Mrs. Duncan got these?” Vance asked, his pen hovering over his notepad.
“She claimed she bought them through an exclusive importer in Seattle,” Neil answered, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. He was sitting next to me, holding my hand so tightly his knuckles were white. “She brought them to our house in white gift wrap this afternoon.”
Vance nodded slowly. “This batch code—884-B—isn't just restricted, Mr. and Mrs. Duncan. Three months ago, a rogue biotech broker named Arthur Vance was arrested in Oregon for selling dangerous, unapproved chemical compounds stolen from liquidated research labs to desperate or unscrupulous individuals online.”
I leaned forward. “Why would anyone want this specific compound?”
“It contains high concentrations of synthetic thyroid disruptors,” Vance revealed, looking at us grimly. “In adults, it causes mild lethargy. In infants, even a small dose causes rapid weight loss, severe irritability, loss of appetite, and symptoms that mimic acute maternal neglect or failure to thrive.”
My blood ran cold. The evil of Whitney’s plan was so calculated it made my breath catch in my throat.
She didn't want to kill Micah outright; she wanted to create symptoms that would fool pediatricians, social workers, and judges into believing I was starving my baby or giving him contaminated milk. She was setting a trap that would land me in prison and hand her total legal guardianship of the Duncan family heir.
“Can you arrest her tonight?” Neil asked, a sudden surge of protective fury rising in his chest.
Detective Vance raised a hand. “Not yet, Neil. Your mother is Whitney Duncan. She has four high-priced corporate defense attorneys on retainer and donates heavily to the county prosecutor’s re-election campaign. If I walk up to her mansion tonight with just these cans, her lawyers will claim she was an innocent victim of a fake online vendor who sold her counterfeit formula.”
“Then what do we do?” I demanded. “We can't just pretend nothing happened! She threatened to take my son!”
“We need direct proof of intent,” Vance said, leaning over the table. “We need proof that she knew what was in those cans before she handed them to you. Did she send any text messages? Leave any voicemails?”
Neil pulled his phone from his pocket. “She sent me a text right after she left our house.”
He unlocked the screen and handed the phone to Detective Vance.
I leaned over to read the screen.
Whitney [4:15 PM]: Neil, make sure Adriana uses those cans exclusively starting tonight. Do not let her breastfeed him anymore. I have already arranged for Dr. Sterling to perform a private wellness evaluation on Micah this Friday. If he hasn't gained weight by then, I will be forced to file an emergency child protection petition. It’s for the boy’s own good.
Detective Vance smiled—a cold, sharp smile.
“Dr. Sterling,” Vance noted, tapping the screen. “Dr. Richard Sterling is on the medical board at Whitney’s private charity foundation. He’s already in her pocket.”
“She planned the whole timeline,” I breathed, a shudder passing through me. “Give him the formula Tuesday, have her doctor diagnose him Friday, file for emergency custody Monday.”
“Precisely,” Vance said, sliding the evidence into a secure storage box. “Here is what we are going to do. We are going to let Whitney believe her plan is working. Tomorrow morning, Neil, you are going to call your mother.”
Neil swallowed hard. “What do I tell her?”
“You tell her that Adriana gave in,” Vance instructed. “You tell her that Micah had his first bottle of the new formula tonight, and that Adriana is feeling unwell and resting. You invite her over to see the 'results' on Thursday.”
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Neil looked at me, his eyes filled with a fierce, unwavering resolve I had never seen in him before.
“I’ll do it,” Neil said. “She tried to destroy my wife and my son. I’m done being her dutiful boy.”
