Chapter 17 - The Recording Played
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Vanessa scrambled to her feet, tears streaming down her face, her heavy makeup running in dark, ugly streaks.
“This is a mistake! We didn't do anything! We were just trying to help you, Eleanor!” Vanessa screamed, her voice shrill with desperate panic. “We’re family! You can't do this to family!”
“Family?” I asked softly.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out my smartphone, and tapped the screen. I had connected it via Bluetooth to the expensive surround-sound speakers Michael had installed in the living room.
I hit play.
Vanessa’s own voice, loud and impossibly cruel, filled the entire house: “Now you learn your place.”
Michael’s voice immediately followed, dripping with arrogant condescension: “You needed a lesson, Mom. You’ve been acting like this is still your house.”
Then, the chilling audio of Vanessa planning my demise played clearly for the police to hear: “Once she signs the refinancing papers, we can put her somewhere cheap. A state facility.”
The county detective’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked at Michael and Vanessa.
“Cutting someone’s hair without their consent while they sleep physically constitutes assault,” the detective stated, his voice devoid of any sympathy. “Combined with the audio recording clearly discussing forcing a signature and placing her in a locked facility against her will, we also have overwhelming evidence of coercion, elder abuse, and attempted financial exploitation. You two are in very deep trouble.”
Vanessa went completely white, looking like she might vomit on her expensive shoes.
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“No, no, no,” she stammered, looking wildly around the room. “We didn't mean it! We were just... we were just blowing off steam!”
“No,” I said, my voice cutting through her pathetic lies like a scythe. “I invited my son into my home because I loved him. You both mistook my love for permission to destroy me.”
