Chapter 9 - The Wiretap Strategy
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Over the next two weeks, I lived a terrifying double life. By day, I smiled for the cameras, attended dress fittings with a gloating Lucinda, and allowed Evan to parade me around high-society galas like a prized show pony.
By night, I sat in unmarked police vans with Detective Alvarez, meticulously planning our sting operation.
“Illinois is a one-party consent state,” Alvarez explained, spreading a map of the cathedral on the tactical table. “That means as long as you are part of the conversation, we don't need a warrant to record him. But the confession has to be explicit. We need him talking about the forged invoices, the Larkspur accounts, and the fire.”
“He’s cautious,” I warned. “He only threatens me when we are completely alone.”
“Then we isolate him when he feels the most powerful,” Alvarez replied. “When a narcissist thinks he has trapped his prey, he can't help but brag about the cage.”
The plan was highly risky. Alvarez’s financial team had discovered that Evan was preparing to execute one final, massive wire transfer of $600,000 to his mother’s offshore account. He had scheduled it to trigger during the wedding weekend, knowing the banks would be closed and I would be distracted by the ceremony.
“We let him make the transfer,” Alvarez ordered. “We want the IP address, the device, and the exact moment he moves the money. If we catch him in the act, it’s a federal wire fraud slam dunk.”
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“So I have to go through with the wedding?” I asked, my stomach churning at the thought of standing at the altar with him.
Alvarez looked me dead in the eye. “You don't have to marry him, Mara. But you have to put on the dress.”
