Chapter 4 - Cracks in the ArmorMichael spent the next forty-eight hours in a state of growing hysteria.
He hired private security, doubled the locks on his penthouse, and refused to leave his office without armed guards. Ashley thought he was having a nervous breakdown brought on by guilt.
“You’re imagining things, Michael!” Ashley shouted inside his corner office at Carter Enterprises. “We saw her fall! We heard the report from the coroner! She’s six feet under!”
“Then who sent this?!” Michael screamed, slamming the photograph onto his mahogany desk. “Who took this picture, Ashley?! Nobody knew we were on that specific ledge!”
“It’s a hoax! Someone from the hiking trail must have spotted us or found something!” Ashley snapped. “Get it together! The insurance adjuster is coming in one hour to sign off the final wire transfer. If you act like a lunatic, they will hold the funds!”
Michael took a deep breath, pouring himself three fingers of straight bourbon. “You’re right. You’re right. She’s dead. She’s gone.”
What Michael didn’t know was that every phone in that office was tapped, and every camera was feed directly to my mobile device.
Sitting in my high-tech operations room with Gabriel, I listened to every word.
“He’s breaking faster than I expected,” Gabriel noted, tapping a tablet. “The insurance adjuster, Mr. Harrison, is an old associate of mine. He’s going to ask Michael a few… uncomfortable questions today.”
An hour later, Mr. Harrison sat across from Michael, reviewing a mountain of legal paperwork.
“Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Carter,” Harrison said smoothly, adjusting his glasses. “Fifty million dollars, payable upon confirmation of accidental death by alpine exposure.”
Michael’s eyes gleamed with greed. “Thank you, Mr. Harrison. It’s been a national tragedy for my family, but… I must move forward.”
“Of course,” Harrison said, pulling out a pen. “Just one tiny administrative detail we need to clear up before I push the transfer button.”
“What detail?” Michael asked, his hand hovering over the desk.
Harrison pulled out a printout of Michael’s cell phone location data from the day of my ‘accident.’
“Your initial statement to the police said you were at a ski lodge five miles away when your wife went missing,” Harrison said casually. “Yet, satellite tower pings place your phone—and Miss Ashley’s phone—at the exact cliff edge at 2:14 PM. The exact estimated time of her fall.”
Michael froze. His knuckles turned white. “I… I went looking for her! I told the police that!”
“Did you?” Harrison smiled thinly. “Because according to the tower records, your phone stayed on that cliff for twenty-two minutes after she fell. And then you called a local towing company to ask about car rentals… before calling 911.”
Ashley gasped silently. Michael’s sweat began to pour down his forehead.
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“What are you implying?” Michael growled, his voice trembling.
“I’m not implying anything, Mr. Carter,” Harrison said, closing his briefcase with a loud snap. “I’m simply informing you that the insurance payout has been flagged for a full criminal fraud investigation. Have a nice day.”
