Chapter 15 - The Recording
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Brooke stared at me, the rain dripping from her chin. She searched my eyes for a bluff, for a sliver of the polite, accommodating father-in-law she thought she had manipulated for three years.
She found absolute, freezing granite.
Realizing the threat of mutually assured destruction had failed, her posture completely collapsed. The venom evaporated, replaced by pathetic, weeping desperation.
“Please, David,” Brooke sobbed, dropping to her knees on the wet concrete of my porch. “Please, I’m begging you. Julian Vance’s men called me again today. They know I don't have the house. They said if I don't give them the money by tomorrow night, they are going to hurt me. You have millions. Four hundred thousand is nothing to you. Just pay the loan. I will sign whatever you want. I will divorce Mason. Just don't let them kill me.”
I looked down at the woman kneeling in the storm. She was offering to sell her marriage for a bailout.
“You are offering to divorce my son if I pay your debts?” I asked, keeping my voice loud and clear over the rain.
“Yes!” she cried eagerly, looking up with frantic hope. “Yes, I’ll sign the papers tomorrow. I’ll walk away. Just give me the money to pay Vance, and you’ll never see me again.”
I reached into the inner pocket of my jacket and pulled out my smartphone. I tapped the screen, stopping the voice memo recording I had started before I opened the door.
Brooke’s eyes widened in horror as the realization hit her.
“Texas is a one-party consent state, Brooke,” I informed her smoothly, saving the audio file. “You just admitted, on tape, that you owe money to an illegal lender, and you attempted to extort me for four hundred thousand dollars in exchange for a divorce.”
“You bastard!” she shrieked, scrambling to her feet, lunging toward the phone.
May you like
I stepped back seamlessly, closing the heavy oak door and locking the deadbolt before she could cross the threshold.
I stood in the dry, quiet foyer, listening to her pound her fists furiously against the thick wood, screaming curses into the storm. I walked away, leaving her to the rain. The final piece of evidence was secured. She had just dug her own grave, and handed me the shovel.
