Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN BEFORE ME
Vanessa Reed was alive.
Detective Ortiz found her in Portland.
She had changed her last name after marrying.
She owned a small bookstore.
She had a seven-year-old daughter.
And when police first mentioned Adrian Bennett, she hung up the phone.
Ortiz called again.
Vanessa refused to speak.
Then Ortiz sent her a photograph.
The binder from the basement.
Three hours later, Vanessa called back.
She agreed to meet.
Not in California.
Not near Adrian.
And not alone.
Two investigators flew to Oregon.
I was not permitted to attend.
But Vanessa eventually gave permission for Ortiz to tell me part of her story.
Adrian had met Vanessa when they were both twenty-seven.
She worked in commercial real estate.
He was starting his career.
They became engaged after fourteen months.
According to Adrian, Vanessa cheated and disappeared.
According to Vanessa, that was a lie.
She had discovered Adrian was using access to her work computer to collect information about properties and clients.
At first, she assumed he was curious.
Then she found documents in his apartment.
Private financial reports.
Investment projections.
Copies of confidential client records.
When she confronted him, Adrian begged her not to report him.
Charles intervened.
He promised the documents would be destroyed.
Vanessa agreed to remain silent if Adrian returned everything.
Then her employer discovered irregular access to several files.
Vanessa became the suspect.
She was fired.
She later learned Adrian had used her login.
She threatened to go to police.
Three nights later, someone broke into her apartment.
Nothing valuable was stolen.
Only her laptop.
And every paper related to Adrian.
“That sounds familiar,” I told Ortiz.
“Yes.”
“What happened next?”
“Vanessa received photographs of her younger brother leaving school.”
My stomach turned.
“She was threatened?”
“Indirectly.”
A note was left under her windshield wiper.
MOVE ON.
She moved to Oregon six weeks later.
Changed her number.
Cut contact with nearly everyone connected to Adrian.
“Did Adrian attack her?”
“She says he grabbed her during their final argument.”
“Anything else?”
Ortiz hesitated.
“She says Charles frightened her more than Adrian did.”
That statement stayed with me.
Adrian was violent.
But Charles was strategic.
Violence could be impulsive.
Strategy required intention.
That evening, Rebecca called.
“We have a new problem.”
“What now?”
“Someone filed a civil claim against your condo.”
My chest tightened.
“Who?”
“Bennett Agricultural Holdings.”
“For what reason?”
“They are claiming you personally guaranteed a loan.”
“I did not.”
“I know.”
“How much?”
“Eight hundred thousand dollars.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“The exact property they wanted Eleanor to move into is suddenly collateral?”
“Convenient, isn’t it?”
“Can they take it?”
“Not if the documents are fraudulent.”
“Can they freeze it?”
“They may try.”
My fear became anger.
“What do you need from me?”
“Everything.”
“Every email Adrian sent about finances.”
“Every text from Eleanor.”
“Every document Charles ever asked you to sign.”
“Every calendar entry involving family business.”
So I began digging.
Hours passed.
Then I found something.
An email from Adrian dated ten months earlier.
Subject line: Estate Planning.
Claire, Dad’s attorney thinks married couples should keep updated copies of key documents in case of emergencies.
Send me your deed and passport page when you get a chance.
I had replied.
No need.
My attorney already keeps copies.
Adrian had written again.
Don’t be difficult.
At the time, I had rolled my eyes.
Now I forwarded it to Rebecca.
Then I found another message.
This one from Eleanor.
Six months earlier.
Family works best when everyone contributes according to what they have.
I had replied with a smile emoji.
I felt foolish.
Rebecca called again near midnight.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“The district attorney has issued subpoenas for Bennett Agricultural Holdings.”
“Good.”
“There is more.”
She paused.
“Federal investigators may become involved.”
“Why?”
“Because some of the suspected fraudulent transactions crossed state lines and involved federally insured banks.”
I sat silently.
The family dinner had been intended to make me surrender a condo.
May you like
Instead, Adrian had smashed a plate against my head.
And cracked open an empire.
