Chapter 8 - The Transfer
The next morning began with lawyers.
Bank representatives.
Detectives.
Fraud investigators.
Everyone wanted to understand what FINAL TRANSFER meant before the clock reached whatever deadline Daniel had chosen.
Aaron traced three accounts connected to Bellweather Family Holdings.
Most were nearly empty.
The money had moved again.
“Where?”
I asked.
“We’re following it.”
“Can they access the trust?”
Thomas shook his head.
“Not legitimately.”
“That word isn’t comforting.”
“They would need authenticated documents.”
“They forged my signature.”
“Trust-level authentication is more complicated.”
“But not impossible?”
Thomas did not answer quickly enough.
At 9:43 a.m., his phone rang.
He listened.
Then stood.
“What?”
I asked.
“Someone submitted a request to replace me as trust administrator.”
“With who?”
He looked at me.
“Daniel.”
I almost laughed.
“He’s in jail.”
“The filing claims you signed the authorization three days ago.”
“While I was buried?”
“Exactly.”
Ruiz’s expression hardened.
“That may help us.”
“How?”
“Because they committed themselves to a timeline we can disprove.”
Thomas called the trust institution and froze all administrative changes.
The transfer failed.
But Daniel’s plan had revealed something.
Someone outside jail was still submitting paperwork.
Victor.
Or someone else.
At noon, Mara received a message.
Her phone buzzed while she sat beside the window.
She looked at the screen.
Then went pale.
“What?”
Ruiz asked.
Mara handed her the phone.
One sentence appeared.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT YOUR MOUTH SHUT.
No number.
No name.
Then another message arrived.
MOM KNOWS WHAT YOU DID.
Mara started shaking.
“Your mother is still in custody,” Ruiz said.
“She has access to an attorney.”
“She could pass messages.”
I watched Mara.
For days I had wanted her to feel fear.
Now that she did, it gave me no satisfaction.
“Did your mother ever threaten you before?”
Mara laughed quietly.
“Not in ways anybody could prove.”
“What does that mean?”
“When I was seventeen, she locked me in the basement overnight because I stayed out past curfew.”
Ruiz looked up.
“Daniel?”
“He was the one who locked the door.”
My stomach turned.
This family had rehearsed cruelty for years.
I had simply become the latest target.
Mara looked at me.
“I should have helped you.”
“Yes.”
“I was afraid.”
“So was I.”
“I know.”
“No.”
My voice stayed steady.
“You watched me breathe through a straw.”
“You don’t get to make fear an excuse.”
Mara nodded while tears slid down her cheeks.
“I know.”
The room fell silent.
Then Ruiz’s phone rang again.
This time the call lasted less than thirty seconds.
When she hung up, she looked directly at me.
“We found Victor.”
“Where?”
“At a private airfield outside the county.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Did he have the documents?”
“He had a laptop.”
“A passport.”
“And nearly two hundred thousand dollars in cash.”
I exhaled.
“So it’s over.”
Ruiz shook her head.
“He wasn’t alone.”
My stomach tightened again.
“Who?”
“He was meeting someone.”
“Daniel’s lawyer?”
“No.”
“Evelyn’s?”
“No.”
“Who?”
Ruiz showed me a photograph taken by an officer.
The woman beside Victor wore oversized sunglasses and a cream coat.
I recognized her immediately.
My mouth went dry.
“That’s Dr. Whitmore.”
Ruiz frowned.
“Your obstetrician?”
I nodded.
The woman who had listened to my baby’s heartbeat.
The woman who had told me stress could affect my pregnancy.
May you like
The woman who had repeatedly told Daniel private details about my appointments.
And apparently, the woman who had just been caught trying to leave town with the man who forged my life.
