Chapter 3 - The Shadow of Uncle Derek
University of Colorado Health’s trauma unit was bustling even at dawn, but Benjamin managed to secure a private waiting area through his connections to the hospital board. Rachel had been rushed into the intensive care unit to stabilize her core temperature and treat a severe concussion.
Oliver sat in a large vinyl chair, his small legs dangling, his hands still tightly gripped around the stuffed dog. The blanket the paramedics had given him was pulled up to his chin.
Benjamin walked back from the coffee machine, handing the boy a cup of hot chocolate and a wrapped sandwich from the cafeteria. "Eat something, Oliver. You need your strength."
Oliver took the cocoa but didn't touch the food. He looked at Benjamin with an intensity that seemed far too heavy for an eight-year-old. "Thank you for coming back, Mr. Benjamin."
"Call me Benjamin, kiddo," he replied, sitting in the chair next to him. "Tell me about your uncle Derek. Who is he?"
"He's not my real uncle," Oliver said, his eyes dropping to the floor. "He’s my dad’s brother, but my dad died two years ago in a construction accident. Derek came to live in our house three months ago. He said he was going to help Mom with the money, but he only took her papers. He made her sign things. Mom was crying every night."
Benjamin’s professional instincts flared. As a construction magnate, he knew how crooked contractors and predatory relatives operated when insurance payouts or property deeds were involved. "What kind of papers, Oliver?"
"The house," Oliver said. "Our old farm in Platte County. Dad left it to me and Mom. Derek said a big company wanted to buy it to build warehouses, but Mom said no because Dad wanted us to keep it forever. Then two nights ago, Derek got really mad. He threw a glass against the wall. He told Mom that if she didn't sign the deed over to his company, he’d make sure neither of us ever saw the farm again."
"And last night?" Benjamin pressed gently.
"Mom said she was going to the police," Oliver whispered, his body starting to tremble again. "We went to the market because Mom thought there would be lots of people around and Derek wouldn't follow us. But he did. He caught us in the alley. He hit Mom... she fell down and didn't move. Then he put her in the big blue box and locked it. He grabbed me, but I bit his hand and ran away. I hid under a truck until he drove away in his big red pickup."
Benjamin’s jaw tightened. Derek Hale hadn't just committed an assault; he had attempted a pre-planned execution to clear a title on a high-value piece of land.
Before Benjamin could ask another question, the glass doors of the waiting room swung open. Detective Vance walked in, accompanied by a tall, heavily built man wearing a flannel shirt and muddy work boots. The man had a thick bandage wrapped around his right hand.
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Oliver gasped, shrinking back into the vinyl chair, his face turning the color of chalk.
"That's him," Oliver choked out, pointing a shaking finger. "Benjamin, that's Derek! That's the man who put Mommy in the box!"
