Chapter 5 - The Woman Everyone Trusted
Brenda stepped into the room.
Christopher stared at her.
“You.”
The disbelief in his voice told me everything.
He hadn't known.
Brenda had not disappeared because she was frightened.
She had disappeared because she was involved.
Douglas stood beside her, but something about his posture had changed.
He didn't look like the man controlling the room.
He looked like someone trapped inside it.
Garrett's security team moved forward.
Brenda raised both hands.
“I'm unarmed.”
“Then start talking,” Garrett said.
She looked at him.
“ApexBio wanted your rehabilitation division. Your technology was years ahead of theirs. They couldn't buy it because you refused.”
“So they paid Douglas?”
“Yes.”
Douglas looked away.
Garrett's face hardened.
“How much?”
“Fourteen million routed through consulting companies.”
The number from Garrett's audit.
I looked at Douglas.
“You sold your brother's company.”
“I sold access,” he snapped.
“That's what people say when the real word sounds ugly,” I said.
Garrett asked the question that mattered.
“Did you cause my crash?”
Douglas looked at Brenda.
She answered.
“No.”
Garrett's eyes narrowed.
“Then who did?”
Brenda walked toward a dusty table.
“The plan was never to kill you.”
“Comforting.”
“We wanted leverage. Corporate pressure. A board challenge.”
“You stole fourteen million dollars.”
“I documented fourteen million dollars,” Brenda corrected. “Douglas took it.”
Douglas lunged toward her.
Security stopped him.
“You said you destroyed those records!”
Brenda smiled faintly.
“I lied.”
I suddenly understood.
Brenda had been collecting evidence against everyone.
Christopher.
Douglas.
ApexBio.
Maybe Garrett.
“What happened the night of the crash?” I asked.
Brenda looked at me.
“Christopher delivered the drive. Someone followed Garrett.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect us to believe that?”
“No. I expect you to look at the evidence.”
She pointed toward the folder Douglas carried.
Inside were photographs.
Traffic-camera stills.
Garrett's car.
A second SUV.
Then another image.
The driver was impossible to identify.
But the vehicle belonged to ApexBio Solutions.
Christopher looked sick.
“I worked there.”
“You weren't driving,” Brenda said.
“How do you know?”
“Because you were on a security camera at a gas station fourteen miles away.”
Christopher looked at me.
For the first time, I believed him without needing to force myself.
Federal investigators arrived twenty minutes later.
Douglas was detained for questioning related to financial fraud and Christopher's unlawful confinement.
Brenda voluntarily surrendered her devices and records.
Christopher was taken to the hospital.
But one question remained.
Who drove the SUV?
Garrett's recovery accelerated over the following weeks.
Now that secrecy was no longer necessary, he returned to intensive rehabilitation.
I became part caregiver, part witness, and—though neither of us said it—part friend.
Sometimes something more flickered between us.
Neither of us touched it.
We had both learned what happened when lonely people confused rescue with love.
One afternoon, Garrett stood between parallel bars.
“Ten seconds,” I said.
“I did twelve yesterday.”
“Yesterday you cheated.”
“How does someone cheat at standing?”
“You leaned.”
“That's called strategy.”
“That's called leaning.”
He smiled.
“Time me.”
Fourteen seconds.
Then seventeen.
Then twenty-one.
He sat, breathing hard.
“You're smiling,” he said.
“Professional encouragement.”
“Terrible lie.”
“I'm out of practice.”
He looked at me.
“I don't think you are.”
The moment lingered.
Then his attorney entered.
The investigation had uncovered another shell company.
Its registered agent was someone neither of us expected.
Florence Miller.
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“No.”
The attorney handed me the documents.
My former mother-in-law's signature appeared on incorporation papers dated eleven months earlier.
Before Garrett's accident.
Before my divorce.
Before Christopher supposedly began his affair.
I called Florence.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Christopher called me from San Diego that evening.
“I found Mom's old financial records.”
“And?”
“She received almost $600,000.”
I sat down.
“For what?”
“I don't know.”
“Christopher.”
“I swear.”
That word no longer carried much weight.
But his voice did.
He sounded devastated.
The next morning, Florence appeared at the mansion.
She asked to speak privately.
Garrett refused.
“No more private conversations.”
For once, I agreed.
Florence placed a bank statement on the table.
“I didn't keep the money.”
“Where did it go?” I asked.
“To your father's care.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“His insurance stopped covering several treatments. You didn't know.”
I shook my head.
“My father had Medicare and supplemental insurance.”
“Not everything was covered.”
“Christopher paid?”
Florence looked at her son.
Christopher, who had flown in that morning, lowered his eyes.
“I did.”
My anger returned instantly.
“You let me believe we were paying from our savings.”
“We didn't have enough.”
Florence had created the shell company at Christopher's request so payments from ApexBio couldn't be traced directly to him.
But Christopher insisted the money was legitimate consulting compensation.
Brenda disagreed.
The payment came from one of the same entities used to bribe Douglas.
Christopher had unknowingly accepted dirty money.
Or claimed he had.
“How much did Dad's care cost?”
“Two hundred and twelve thousand,” Christopher said.
“And the rest?”
Silence.
“Where is the rest?”
Florence began crying.
“I lost it.”
“How?”
“Gambling.”
The room became still.
That was the debt she'd later allowed Douglas to exploit.
One lie had fed another until everyone was trapped.
I felt tired more than angry.
“You blamed me for destroying my marriage because you were ashamed.”
“Yes.”
“You took money connected to this.”
“Yes.”
“And then you helped Douglas.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Christopher.
“And you knew some of it?”
“Not until later.”
I stood.
“I need both of you to leave.”
Christopher started to speak.
“Rebecca—”
“Please.”
He stopped.
They left.
Garrett remained.
“I don't need advice,” I said.
“I wasn't going to give any.”
“Good.”
“I was going to make coffee.”
“That I need.”
He wheeled toward the kitchen.
I laughed softly.
That night, the federal investigator called.
They had identified the driver of the SUV.
Not through the traffic camera.
Through toll records and a parking receipt.
The driver wasn't Douglas.
Wasn't Christopher.
Wasn't Brenda.
Wasn't any ApexBio executive we'd discussed.
The investigator sent Garrett the name.
Garrett read it.
Then his face drained of color.
I took the phone.
May you like
The name belonged to the one person in the mansion nobody had seriously suspected.
Evelyn Corbin.
