Chapter 6 - THE GHOST IN THE MACHINE
We sat at the dining room table, the three of us—Michael, Thomas, and myself. The rest of the family had quietly excused themselves, taking Sophie to a movie to get her out of the house.
Michael’s laptop sat open between the cold casserole and the untouched glasses of iced tea. He plugged the flash drive in.
His hand hovered over the trackpad. He was terrified.
"Whatever is on here, Michael," I said softly, covering his trembling hand with my own, "we face it together. You are not alone."
He nodded, swallowed hard, and clicked on the only folder on the drive. It was simply titled: For My Son.
Inside were dozens of files. Bank records. Photographs. Transcripts.
The private investigator David hired had been thorough. Extremely thorough.
We opened the first document. It was a forensic accounting of Lauren’s boutique. The business hadn't failed because of the economy. Lauren had been using the boutique as a front to launder her own gambling debts, moving money from Michael's personal savings into the business, and then paying it out to offshore betting accounts under the guise of "vendor payments."
"My God," Michael whispered, scrolling through page after page of unauthorized transfers. "She forged my signature on the home equity line. I... I never saw these statements. She intercepted the mail."
"Keep going," Thomas instructed gently.
Michael clicked on an audio file.
It was a recorded phone call. Lauren’s voice filled the room, but it wasn't the sweet tone she used with me, nor the vicious one she had just used in the hallway. It was panicked, desperate.
"I need more time," Lauren's recorded voice pleaded. "My father-in-law is dying. Once he's gone, I can manipulate Michael into selling the estate. Just give me two months. I have the old man's medical records. He's not going to make it past November."
A cold, heavy stone settled in my gut. She had been timing my husband's death. She had been counting the days, betting his life against her debts.
Michael slammed the laptop shut. He stood up so fast his chair tipped backward, crashing onto the hardwood floor.
He walked to the window, staring out at the garden David had painstakingly planted for me. He stood there for a long time, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy, ragged breaths.
"She was going to destroy me," Michael said to the glass. "And she was going to use Sophie to do it. Mom, if she owes this kind of money to these kinds of people... Sophie isn't safe with her."
"No," I agreed softly. "She isn't."
"I have to call a lawyer," Michael said, turning around. His eyes were no longer bloodshot with sorrow. They were hard. Focused. "I have to file for emergency sole custody."
"You already have a lawyer, Michael," Thomas said, calmly sipping his iced tea. "And we are already steps ahead of her. Your father made sure of it."
Thomas opened his leather briefcase one more time.
"The night David gave me his final instructions, he told me that Lauren would undoubtedly threaten you with the Seattle clinic records. It was her only leverage."
Thomas pulled out a thick legal document bound in a blue cover.
"This is a post-nuptial agreement," Thomas said. "Signed and notarized three years ago, exactly one week after you returned from rehab in Seattle."
Michael looked confused. "I never signed a post-nup. Lauren would never have agreed to that."
"She didn't agree to it with you," Thomas corrected. "She agreed to it with David."
I leaned forward. "What do you mean?"
"Three years ago, Lauren got into a minor car accident," Thomas explained. "She was intoxicated. She hit a parked car. David used his connections to keep it out of the papers and quietly settle the damages so it wouldn't impact your firm, Michael."
My jaw dropped. David had carried so many secrets to protect this family. The weight of it all must have been agonizing.
"But David wasn't a fool," Thomas continued. "In exchange for paying off the damages and keeping her out of jail, he forced Lauren to sign this. It's an ironclad agreement. If Lauren ever initiates a divorce, or if she attempts to use your medical history against you in a custody dispute, she automatically forfeits any right to your assets, your business, and alimony. Furthermore, she admits in this document, under penalty of perjury, to her gambling addiction."
Michael stared at the blue folder like it was glowing.
"Dad did that?" Michael whispered. "He trapped her?"
"He built a safety net," I corrected softly, tears finally spilling over my cheeks. Even in death, David was still holding the roof up over our heads.
Suddenly, Michael's cell phone buzzed violently on the table.
It was Lauren.
Michael stared at the screen. He didn't answer it.
Then, a text message popped up. We could all read it on the locked screen.
LAUREN: I'm at Sophie's school. The principal won't let me sign her out without your consent. Call the school NOW, Michael, or I go straight to the police about Seattle.
My blood ran cold.
"She's trying to take Sophie," I said, panic rising in my throat. "She doesn't know Brenda has her."
May you like
Michael grabbed his phone. But instead of calling Lauren, he looked at Thomas.
"Thomas," Michael said, his voice deadly calm. "Call the police. Tell them my wife is attempting to kidnap my daughter, and she has outstanding warrants for extortion and fraud."
