Chapter 6 - The Spider's Web Unravels
When the elevator doors slid open onto the marble expanse of the ground-floor atrium, the scene was worse than Sarah had described.
Carmen was sitting on the edge of the circular planter beneath the four-story glass skylight. She was wearing a tight white maternity top, black leggings, and no makeup, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. She was holding a tissue to her nose, weeping loudly enough that her voice bounced off the polished travertine walls.
Two building security guards stood five feet away, looking deeply uncomfortable, their hands hovering near their utility belts as several dozen executives and junior analysts in bespoke suits slowed down to watch the spectacle.
"I just want to talk to her!" Carmen was wailing to an elderly couple who had stopped near the coffee bar. "She took my medicine! She threw my clothes onto the street! I am carrying her husband's child, and she is using her corporate lawyers to starve us out!"
I didn't run. I didn't rush. I walked across the marble floor with the slow, deliberate pace of a judge taking the bench. The sharp *clack-clack-clack* of my heels against the stone cut through her theatrical sobbing.
The crowd went silent. Carmen looked up.
When she saw my face—completely devoid of rage, completely devoid of tears, cold as polished obsidian—her sobs caught in her throat for half a second before she doubled down, throwing her hands over her stomach.
"Ana!" she cried, attempting to stand, wobbling dramatically as if her knees couldn't support her weight. "Please! You have to call off your lawyer! Miguel woke up this morning and his business accounts were completely frozen! We couldn't even pay for the motel room! The front desk clerk threw us out in the rain!"
I stopped four feet away from her. I didn't look at the crowd. I didn't look at the cell phone cameras pointed in our direction.
"Carmen," I said, my voice carrying clearly across the silent lobby. "Do you know what the legal definition of corporate wire fraud is under federal statute eighteen, section thirteen-forty-three?"
Carmen blinked, her mouth falling open. "What... what are you talking about? I came here to talk about the baby!"
"You came here because you thought public humiliation would force me into writing you a settlement check," I said, pulling a folded set of documents from my leather folder. "You came here because you thought if you made enough noise in front of my colleagues, I would back down to protect my reputation."
I unfolded the paper and held it up so the overhead atrium lights hit the black-and-white ink.
"This is the corporate registration for *Horizon Apex Solutions*," I said, turning slightly so the onlookers could hear every crisp syllable. "An entity through which you, Carmen Delgado, received over thirty-four thousand dollars in direct deposits over the last five months. Money stolen directly from the corporate accounts of Vantage Capital Partners through forged purchase orders."
A collective murmur rolled through the lobby. Several of the junior analysts who had been filming lowered their phones, their expressions turning from titillated curiosity to sudden horror.
Carmen’s face turned an ugly, mottled shade of gray. "I... I don't know anything about that! Miguel handled the paperwork! He said it was his consulting fee!"
"You signed the corporate bank signature card at the downtown Wells Fargo branch on October fourth," I said, stepping closer, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper that only she and the two security guards could hear. "I have the security footage from the bank teller station, Carmen. I have your driver’s license number on the notary ledger. And twenty minutes ago, Vantage Capital's general counsel filed a formal criminal complaint with the United States Attorney's Office for commercial fraud and grand larceny."
Carmen’s knees really did give out this time. She collapsed back onto the marble planter, her hands dropping away from her stomach, her theatrical tears completely evaporating into pure, unadulterated terror.
"You... you called the feds?" she gasped.
"No," I replied, leaning down slightly so my eyes locked with hers. "My firm called the feds. I merely provided the evidence. And as for your personal situation? The temporary restraining order was signed by Judge Martinez at eight-fifteen this morning. You are currently within five hundred feet of my workplace, which constitutes an immediate violation of a court order."
I glanced up at the head of security, who was standing beside the coffee bar. "Officer Jenkins?"
"Yes, Ms. Vance?"
"Please inform the officers waiting outside that the subject of the protective order is currently trespassing in the lobby."
"Right away, ma'am."
"Ana, wait! Please!" Carmen shrieked, scrambling to her feet, her composure completely shattered. She reached out to grab my sleeve, but I took one clean, smooth step backward, letting her hands grasp empty air. "You can't send me to jail! I'm pregnant! I'm having a baby!"
"Then I suggest you ask your co-conspirator, Miguel, to hire you a very good defense attorney," I said, turning my back on her. "Though from what my forensic accountant tells me, he won't even be able to afford a public defender by noon."
May you like
I walked back toward the private executive elevators without looking back once. Behind me, the heavy glass doors of the lobby swung open, followed by the firm, authoritative voices of two uniformed metropolitan police officers instructing Carmen Delgado to turn around and place her hands behind her back.
***
