Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN I THOUGHT I MARRIED
Police did not arrest Victoria that night.
They wanted evidence.
Real evidence.
Not assumptions.
The insurance policy alone didn't prove she intended to harm me.
But combined with forged loans, plans to flee the country, stolen money, and fake property documents, it was enough for investigators to move quickly.
Raymond had disappeared.
His phone was off.
His apartment was empty.
His passport activity showed no departure yet.
Victoria returned home at 10:30 p.m.
She didn't know Sabrina was with me.
She didn't know Martin had already helped investigators copy the envelope.
I sat upstairs in the kitchen when she entered.
Her heels clicked across the floor.
“You destroyed her wedding.”
No hello.
I looked at her.
“No.”
She dropped her purse.
“Logan won't answer her calls.”
“That is between Sabrina and Logan.”
“You humiliated Raymond.”
“He committed fraud.”
“Allegedly.”
That word made me smile.
“You've learned legal vocabulary quickly.”
She stared at me.
Then she noticed my suitcase.
“You're leaving?”
“Yes.”
Her expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Relief.
That hurt.
“I think that's best,” she said.
“I'm sure.”
“You can stay at Bayfront until we figure out the house.”
“The house is held in trust.”
Her face froze.
I continued.
“So is Bayfront.”
Victoria said nothing.
“You knew?”
“When?”
“I asked if you knew.”
She slowly sat.
“Your father always manipulated everything.”
“My father has been dead for eleven years.”
“He wanted control from the grave.”
“No. He wanted protection.”
Her jaw tightened.
“From me?”
“Apparently he had good instincts.”
She stood abruptly.
“You're acting like some innocent victim.”
“Aren't I?”
“You worked constantly!”
Her voice rose.
“You were always downstairs sewing or meeting clients. Do you know what it was like being married to someone who came home smelling like fabric dye and machine oil?”
I stared at her.
“It paid for your house.”
“I wanted more than bills paid!”
“Then why didn't you leave?”
She opened her mouth.
I answered for her.
“Because leaving would have meant leaving the money.”
Her eyes hardened.
“You think this money belongs only to you?”
“The trust property does.”
“After twenty-two years?”
“I offered you everything I could.”
“You offered work.”
“I offered a family.”
She laughed.
“No. You offered stability. Raymond offered life.”
There it was.
Finally.
The truth.
“How long?”
She looked away.
“How long have you been with him?”
Silence.
“Victoria.”
“Two years.”
Something inside me went quiet.
Not broken.
Finished.
“Two years.”
“He came back into Sabrina's life.”
“And into your bed.”
She slapped the countertop.
“Don't make this ugly.”
I almost couldn't believe the sentence.
“You forged my signature.”
“I never forged anything.”
“Raymond did?”
She said nothing.
“You transferred money.”
“It was partly mine.”
“You used fake documents.”
“I was protecting myself.”
“You increased my life insurance.”
That changed her.
Just slightly.
But enough.
“Married couples have insurance.”
“Two million dollars?”
“You own valuable assets.”
“Why were you flying to Mexico Monday?”
She looked at me sharply.
Now she knew.
“How did you—”
“The envelope.”
Her face drained.
“Sabrina gave it to you.”
“Yes.”
Victoria's expression turned furious.
“That stupid girl.”
For twenty-eight years, I had never heard her call Sabrina that.
“Don't.”
“She ruins everything because she's emotional.”
“She's your daughter.”
“She was supposed to follow instructions.”
I stared at the woman across from me.
Maybe I hadn't known her for a long time.
Or maybe I'd known pieces and ignored how they fit together.
“Did Sabrina know the extent of the fraud?”
Victoria didn't answer.
“Did she?”
“No.”
I believed that too.
“She was useful.”
My stomach turned.
“Useful?”
“People trust family signatures.”
That sentence ended whatever remained.
I stood.
“I'm filing for divorce.”
Victoria laughed.
“You'll regret that.”
“No.”
I picked up my suitcase.
“I regret waiting.”
Her phone rang.
Raymond.
She looked at the screen but didn't answer.
“Go ahead.”
She hesitated.
Then answered.
“Where are you?”
I could faintly hear his voice.
Agitated.
She walked toward the hallway.
I stayed still.
“No, he knows,” she whispered.
Pause.
“I don't know how.”
Another pause.
“No, Sabrina turned.”
Turned.
As if our daughter were an employee in a criminal operation.
Victoria lowered her voice further.
“What do you mean tonight?”
My heart started pounding.
She glanced toward me.
I looked away.
Then she went into the living room.
I quietly activated the recording app on my phone.
Her voice carried through the doorway.
“No, Raymond, listen to me. If you run now, it looks guilty.”
Pause.
“What bank documents?”
Pause.
“Oh God.”
Long silence.
Then:
“No. We can't use the original plan anymore.”
My pulse hammered.
Original plan.
“What original plan?” I asked loudly.
Victoria spun around.
She had forgotten I could hear.
“Nothing.”
I stepped closer.
“What original plan?”
She hung up.
“Give me your phone.”
“No.”
“Victoria.”
She backed toward the door.
Then I noticed something.
Her hand had slipped into her purse.
My instincts changed immediately.
I didn't know what she was reaching for.
I didn't wait.
I stepped away.
“Whatever you're doing, don't.”
She pulled out car keys.
Nothing else.
Then she ran.
By the time I reached the front door, her car was already reversing out of the driveway.
I called Martin.
Then police.
Investigators tracked Raymond's phone when he turned it on twenty minutes later.
Location:
Bayfront Pavilion.
I drove there despite Martin telling me not to.
Police arrived first.
The front entrance was locked.
One side door had been forced.
Inside, alarms were sounding.
I entered behind officers.
The smell hit me immediately.
Smoke.
“Fire!”
Someone shouted.
My heart stopped.
Flames were spreading through my upstairs office.
The office containing original business records.
Security drives.
Documents.
Evidence.
Then I heard screaming from the back hallway.
Victoria.
Officers rushed toward her.
She stumbled out coughing.
“Raymond locked me in!”
“Where is he?” an officer demanded.
“I don't know!”
Then a loud crash came from the ballroom.
We turned.
Raymond stood near the loading entrance holding a metal cash box from my office.
When he saw police, he ran.
He made it twenty feet.
Two officers tackled him.
The cash box opened when it hit the ground.
Documents scattered everywhere.
Among them was a handwritten note.
Martin picked it up carefully after officers cleared the scene.
The top line read:
Monday Sequence.
1. Complete pavilion loan.
2. Transfer proceeds.
3. Move remaining joint funds.
4. Airport by 2:30.
Then a final sentence.
If Glenn resists, create workshop accident before departure.
Nobody spoke.
I stared at Victoria.
She stared at Raymond.
Raymond shouted immediately.
“That was her idea!”
Victoria screamed back.
“You wrote it!”
May you like
And with one burned page lying between us, the marriage I had spent twenty-two years protecting became a criminal investigation neither of them could talk their way out of.
---
