Chapter 5 - The Rat Sinks the Ship
Three days later, a storm lashed against the windows of Claire’s home office at my estate. I sat behind her walnut desk, reviewing corporate restructuring documents with Elliot, when my personal mobile phone chimed.
It was an unlisted number. I pressed speakerphone.
“Margaret… please. Please don't hang up on me.”
It was Vanessa Cole. Her voice was unrecognizable—stripped of all the arrogance, gloss, and spite she had displayed at the sanctuary. She was sobbing hysterically.
“You have ten seconds to give me a reason not to block this number, Vanessa,” I said coldly.
“It was Daniel! It was all Daniel’s idea!” she gasped into the phone, her voice shaking violently. “He told me he and Claire were legally separated! He told me the money in Apex Management was his private executive bonus pool! I didn't know it was stolen! I swear to God on my life, I didn't know!”
Elliot smiled faintly, making a note on his pad.
“You signed the corporate registration papers for Apex Management, Vanessa,” I pointed out. “You deposited forty-two checks into that account. You wore a red dress to my daughter’s funeral and told me you won.”
“I was stupid! He tricked me!” she wailed. “The state police came to my apartment two hours ago, Margaret! They had a search warrant! They took my clothes, my bags, my car, my phone… they said I’m being named as a primary co-conspirator in a grand larceny indictment! They told me I’m looking at ten years in prison!”
“Actions have consequences, Vanessa.”
“I’ll tell them everything!” she blurted out, completely abandoning any remaining thread of self-preservation. “I’ll testify against him! I’ll sign whatever statement you want! Just please talk to the prosecutor! Tell them I was just an accomplice!”
“Where is Daniel right now?” I asked flatly.
Vanessa didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second.
“He’s hiding at the Harborview Motel near the commercial docks!” she spilled frantically. “Room 114! He tried to make me use my sister’s credit card to buy him a bus ticket to Toronto! He has a black leather duffel bag in the closet filled with almost two hundred thousand dollars in cash he pulled out of a safe-deposit box months ago! He’s planning to cross the border tonight!”
Elliot immediately pulled out his cell phone, dialing Detective Miller from the Financial Crimes Unit.
“Thank you for the information, Vanessa,” I said softly.
“Does that mean you’ll help me?” she begged, breathless with desperate hope. “Will you tell the judge I helped you?”
“It means,” I replied, “that you and Daniel will have plenty of time to discuss who won while sitting in separate state correctional facilities.”
I disconnected the call.
Twenty minutes later, three unmarked police vehicles and a tactical entry unit pulled into the flooded parking lot of the Harborview Motel.
Daniel Miller was sitting on the edge of a stained mattress, frantically stuffing stacks of hundred-dollar bills into a canvas gym bag, when the door was kicked off its hinges.
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Before he could even reach for his jacket, three officers tackled him to the carpet, pinning his face against the dirty floor. Steel handcuffs clicked tight around his wrists.
As they hauled him to his feet, Daniel caught sight of his reflection in the dark, cracked television screen on the dresser. The smooth, charismatic executive who had spent nine years leeching off my family was gone. In his place was a terrified, pathetic coward facing decades behind bars.
