Chapter 5 - Patricia's Desperate Trap
Two weeks passed, and the legal walls were rapidly closing in on Harrison. The federal investigation into his embezzlement was underway, and it was only a matter of time before indictments were handed down.
I was focusing on expanding Vanguard Holdings when I received an unexpected phone call from a blocked number. When I answered, a shaky, fragile voice spoke.
"Claire... please don't hang up."
It was Patricia. But the usual arrogance and venom were entirely gone, replaced by a frail, trembling whisper.
"What do you want, Patricia?" I asked, my voice guarded.
"I need help," she sobbed. "Harrison has abandoned me. He’s fled the state to avoid the police, and he took the last of our cash. The hotel threw me out on the street. I’m sitting in a diner downtown, and I don't even have enough money to pay for a cup of coffee. They’re going to call the police on me, Claire. I know I was terrible to you, but please... don't leave an old woman to starve on the street."
Despite everything she had done, a small pang of human empathy hit me. I despised her actions, but the thought of an elderly woman genuinely destitute made me hesitate.
"Which diner, Patricia?" I asked quietly.
"The Blue Diner on 4th Street," she whimpered. "Please come alone. If people see you with me, they’ll take photos... I have some dignity left."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," I said, hanging up.
I grabbed my coat and purse, but as I walked toward the elevator, a nagging feeling in the back of my mind made me pause. Patricia Voss was a master manipulator. She had spent thirty years navigating high society through deceit and leverage. Would she really break down this easily?
I opened my phone and called my private investigator, Marcus, who had been monitoring the Voss family during the divorce.
"Marcus, I need you to pull up the traffic cameras near the Blue Diner on 4th Street immediately. Patricia says she’s stranded there."
A few moments of silence passed over the line before Marcus spoke, his voice tense. "Claire, do not go there. It’s a setup. I’m looking at a live feed of the alleyway behind the diner. Harrison isn't out of the state. He’s parked back there in a rented SUV. And there are two paparazzi photographers hiding in a van across the street. If you walk into that diner, they’re going to stage a scene to make it look like you’re assaulting or harassing an old woman, or they’re going to try to force you into a vehicle."
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My blood ran cold. The vulnerability was completely fake. It was a desperate, coordinated trap to create a public scandal, ruin my reputation, or worse, kidnap me for a forced financial ransom settlement.
"Thank you, Marcus," I said, my voice hardening. "Change of plans. Call the police precinct on 4th Street. Tell them a wanted federal fugitive, Harrison Voss, is currently hiding in a rented SUV in the alleyway."
