Chapter 12 - The Trap We Built Without Breaking the Law
Victor’s recordings were useful.
But not enough.
He had secretly recorded several conversations after becoming afraid Derek would blame him if the scheme collapsed.
In one, Derek discussed “Grace’s list.”
In another, Leonard Reese complained that older clients were becoming suspicious.
Derek replied:
“They’ll call Grace before they call the police. She’ll calm them down without knowing she’s doing it.”
I listened once.
Only once.
Anton offered to break the phone.
“It belongs to investigators.”
“I’ll buy them another.”
“Very mature.”
“I’m grieving.”
“For your reputation?”
“For my restraint.”
Despite myself, I laughed.
That mattered.
Derek had spent years using my kindness without my knowledge.
I refused to let learning the truth turn kindness into something I was ashamed of.
Investigators needed Derek discussing the forged documents directly.
Victor agreed to make contact.
Everything would be supervised.
Recorded legally.
No threats.
No games.
No Anton.
That last rule came from the prosecutor.
Anton looked offended.
“I’m extremely charming.”
Julia stared.
“Not the relevant trait.”
Victor called Derek from a monitored room.
I watched through glass with Anton and Julia.
Derek answered quickly.
“Where are you?”
Victor followed the script loosely.
“We have a problem.”
“You have several.”
“The Holloway documents.”
My heart pounded.
Derek’s voice became quieter.
“What about them?”
“The handwriting report will come back.”
“So?”
“So what if they say she didn’t sign?”
Derek paused.
“You’re panicking.”
“I’m asking.”
“She doesn’t need to have signed anything.”
I stopped breathing.
Victor pushed.
“You told me Patricia never saw Grace sign.”
“She didn’t need to.”
“Then why use her?”
“Because witnesses remember what they think happened.”
Anton’s jaw tightened.
Victor continued.
“And the notary?”
“Paid.”
There.
Julia wrote something.
My hands shook.
Victor asked, “What about the database?”
Derek sighed.
“Stop talking about things on the phone.”
“You said we were protected.”
“We were until you got stupid.”
“I’m not taking the fall.”
Another silence.
Then Derek’s voice changed.
Cold.
“You already took your share.”
“I never agreed to seniors losing everything.”
“You agreed to make money.”
“This got bigger.”
“Everything gets bigger.”
Victor swallowed.
I could see sweat on his face.
Then he asked the final question.
“What happens to Grace?”
Derek laughed.
“She’ll survive.”
“How?”
“She always survives by making things small enough to live with.”
My eyes filled.
There it was.
The original insult.
Not random.
Not spontaneous.
He had studied me deeply enough to weaponize the thing he once claimed to despise.
My ability to be content.
To forgive.
To accept ordinary happiness.
He had believed that meant I would absorb betrayal quietly.
Then Derek added:
“Grace doesn’t fight. That’s why she was useful.”
Anton’s hand closed around mine.
I squeezed back.
Not because I needed protection.
Because I needed a witness to the moment something inside me finally became free.
Derek had been wrong.
Not about money.
Not about documents.
About me.
The call ended.
Julia exhaled.
“That helps.”
“Helps?” I said.
“That was basically a confession.”
“It was not a full confession.”
Lawyers.
Always determined to make victory sound disappointing.
But investigators were pleased.
Search warrants expanded.
Accounts were frozen.
Leonard Reese’s office was searched.
Harbor Legacy’s servers were seized.
Derek was not arrested yet.
That frustrated me.
“He knows,” I said.
“Yes,” Julia replied.
“Then he could run.”
“His passport is flagged.”
“Could he destroy evidence?”
“We already have most critical systems.”
Anton looked toward Julia.
“What are you not saying?”
She hesitated.
“We think Derek has a backup.”
“Of what?”
“Client records. Payment histories. Possibly cryptocurrency wallets.”
Renee, who had joined us, groaned.
“I knew cryptocurrency would enter this story eventually.”
Nobody laughed.
Investigators believed the backup was physical.
A drive.
Possibly stored somewhere Derek considered safe.
Victor had once heard Derek refer to an “insurance file.”
We began searching every old memory.
Storage unit?
Office?
Bank deposit box?
Then I remembered Derek’s coffee maker.
The ridiculous detail from the breakup.
He had taken it.
A two-hundred-dollar machine.
He owned another at his office.
At the time, I thought it was petty.
Now something about it bothered me.
I went home.
Looked at old photographs.
There.
A picture from Christmas.
The coffee machine sat on the counter.
Behind it was a small black case.
I enlarged the image.
Anton leaned over my shoulder.
“What is that?”
“I don’t know.”
I searched online.
A hardware wallet.
Used to store digital currency keys.
Renee stared.
“He hid financial information behind the espresso machine?”
Anton’s mouth twitched.
“Coffee has protected worse secrets.”
Investigators obtained another warrant.
Derek’s current condo was searched.
The coffee maker was there.
The black case was not.
But inside a kitchen drawer, officers found a key.
Storage facility.
South Boston.
Unit 318.
The unit contained boxes of files.
Computers.
Phones.
And a safe.
Inside the safe was the hardware wallet.
Along with something none of us expected.
A velvet ring box.
Mine.
The engagement ring Derek had supposedly sold after leaving me.
Inside the box was a folded note.
Not sentimental.
Not an apology.
A list of passwords.
One of them began with my name.
And beside it was a date.
May you like
The date of our planned wedding.
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