Chapter 3 - The Setup
Marcus arrived within forty-five minutes. For the next three hours, my dining room table looked like a tactical command center.
We downloaded every byte of the security footage onto multiple encrypted drives. Marcus’s forensic accountant, working remotely, tracked the financial records of Claire's boutique. What he found was the final nail in the coffin.
"Richard," Marcus said, sliding a tablet toward me. "Claire hasn't just been cheating. She’s been liquidating your joint savings to fund her boutique's 'overhead,' which actually routes directly into a private account she shares with Brandon Vance. She’s siphoned off nearly $80,000 over the last six months. She was planning to drain the rest this Monday and file for divorce, aiming for full custody just to get child support."
I let out a dark, humorless laugh. She wanted custody of the children she left to starve on a kitchen floor.
"She won't get a single penny," I said. "And she's never touching my kids again."
"The evidence we have is overwhelming," Marcus agreed, his expression grim. "Child endangerment, abandonment, financial fraud. But if we file standard paperwork, she’ll get tipped off by the courts and try to run, or hide the remaining assets. We need her to sign a voluntary termination of parental rights and an immediate asset division before she realizes the law is already standing behind her."
"She’ll never sign that voluntarily," I muttered.
"She will," I countered, looking out the window as the first light of dawn began to break over the horizon. "When she realizes the alternative is a ten-year stretch in a state penitentiary."
I knew Claire's schedule. I knew she prided herself on her image above all else. She loved her luxury lifestyle, her country club reputation, and her wealthy friends. If that image was threatened with absolute, public destruction, she would do anything to save herself.
At 6:00 AM, I called my captain at the emergency-response unit. I explained the situation briefly, providing him with a copy of the security logs to justify my sudden departure from training. He was a family man himself; his voice cracked with rage when he saw what Valerie went through.
"Do what you have to do, Richard," the captain said. "Take all the time you need. We have your back."
By 7:30 AM, the house was immaculate. I had cleaned the spilled milk myself. Valerie and Mateo were sleeping safely at my mother’s house down the road, guarded by Rex. The mansion was completely empty, quiet, and waiting.
May you like
Marcus sat in my office, hidden from view. I sat at the kitchen island, a fresh pot of coffee brewing, staring at the front door.
At exactly 8:15 AM, a key turned in the lock.
