Chapter 6 - The Cop on Vivian’s Payroll
The corruption investigation began before sunrise.
Only four people had known Vivian's transport route.
One was Reyes.
One was his captain.
The other two were officers assigned to the case.
Reyes voluntarily surrendered his phone and badge while Internal Affairs investigated.
I trusted him.
But trust wasn't evidence.
That lesson had nearly killed me.
Vivian refused to identify her contact.
She didn't need to.
Mom's notebook did.
Buried among pages of financial transactions was a recurring payment to a consulting company.
Harbor Strategic Services.
Reyes recognized the address.
It belonged to Captain Harold Mason.
His captain.
The man supervising Mom's homicide investigation.
Internal Affairs arrested Mason that afternoon.
He confessed within twelve hours.
Vivian had paid him for information for years.
Not just about the crash.
About Thomas.
About Mom.
About me.
He'd been the reason Mom's earlier complaints disappeared into bureaucratic silence.
And he'd warned Vivian before police searched the house.
But Mason revealed something bigger.
Vivian wasn't merely after Mom's life insurance.
She was nearly bankrupt.
Years of bad investments and hidden debts had consumed everything.
She believed Mom's estate was worth almost eight million dollars.
The house.
Investments.
Insurance.
Business shares.
Vivian intended to make herself the only surviving heir.
Except I survived.
That made me the “second problem.”
The words from the photograph finally made sense.
Two weeks later, I attended Vivian's preliminary hearing.
She entered in jail clothing.
No cashmere.
No pearls.
No performance.
When she saw me, she smiled.
I smiled back.
Then Thomas entered behind me.
Vivian's face changed.
Twenty-six years of intimidation collapsed in one second.
My father sat beside me.
He didn't touch me.
Not until I reached for his hand.
Then he held mine.
The prosecutor presented the brake analysis.
Eddie's testimony.
Financial records.
Mom's notebook.
The recording.
Mason's confession.
Vivian's own statements inside our house.
The judge denied bail.
As deputies led her away, she turned.
“Elena ruined everything!”
I stood as much as my braces allowed.
“No.”
My voice carried across the courtroom.
“She saved everything.”
For the first time since the crash, Vivian had no answer.
But the case wasn't finished.
Because investigators had uncovered a bank account in Mom's name.
An account Mom had never opened.
And someone had withdrawn $900,000 from it two days after her death.
The withdrawal had not been made by Vivian.
The signature belonged to someone else.
Someone whose name made Thomas go pale when he saw it.
CLAIRE BENNETT.
My name.
Someone had forged my identity.
May you like
And whoever had done it was still out there.
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