Chapter 3 - Smile to Their Faces, Stab Them in the Dark
Viral Headline: SMILE TO THEIR FACES, STAB THEM IN THE DARK: My Masterclass in Playing the Clueless Wife"What do you mean, don't go to the cabin?" I asked, my voice dripping with innocent confusion. "Why not?"
"Because..." Grant stammered, searching frantically for a lie. "Because Sarah called me earlier. She said she was feeling really overwhelmed and was actually planning to head back to the city tonight. She said she needed to see her therapist first thing in the morning. If you go there, you'll just miss her, and you'll have driven all that way for nothing."
"Oh," I said, making my voice sound disappointed. "Really? That's so strange. She told me she was staying the whole weekend."
"Yeah, well, you know how Sarah's been since the divorce," Grant said, his voice regaining its smooth, manipulative rhythm. "She's very unstable right now. Up and down. Honestly, Em, I think you should just turn around and head back to Milwaukee. It's dangerous to drive those dark roads alone at night. I don't want anything happening to my girl."
My girl. The phrase made me want to gag.
"You're right, sweetie," I said softly. "I am pretty tired. I'll just find a hotel nearby for the night and head back in the morning. I don't feel like driving three hours back in the dark."
"Great idea," Grant said, relief practically washing over the connection. "Find a nice place in Wausau or something. Text me when you're checked in. I love you, Em."
"I love you too, Grant. Have fun at your conference."
I hung up. The silence in the car was deafening.
"He fell for it," Julian said, a grim smile playing on his lips. "But he’s going to check your GPS. We need to make sure your car ends up exactly where you said it would be."
"I'm not going to a hotel," I said, my voice cold. "If they think I'm safe in Wausau, they're going to finish what they started tonight. They're going to get Richard to sign the rest of those papers, and then they're going to file them first thing Monday morning."
"Exactly," Julian said. "Which is why we need to move fast. I have a friend who owns a local motel just ten miles from here. We’ll park your car there, disable the GPS tracker, and then we are going to get to work."
Two hours later, we were in a dimly lit motel room, the walls covered in cheap wood paneling. Julian had spread out dozens of documents on the double bed.
"This is the heart of their operation," Julian said, pointing to a diagram of a bank ledger. "Grant has been funneling money out of your joint accounts into an offshore account in the Cayman Islands. But he’s been doing it using an IP address registered to your personal laptop. He’s making it look like you are the one stealing the money and hiding it, preparing to run away."
"He's setting me up to take the fall for financial fraud," I realized, the puzzle pieces falling into place. "If the trust money disappears, and the credit lines are maxed out, the police will look at my laptop, see the transactions, and assume I stole everything."
"And with the power of attorney amendment Richard just signed, Grant will have full legal authority to 'manage' your affairs while you are prosecuted or committed to a psychiatric facility," Julian added. "He gets the twenty-two million from the land sale, he gets Sarah, and you get a prison cell or a padded room."
"Not if I destroy him first," I said, a fire burning in my chest that I didn't know I possessed. "Julian, how do we stop the land transfer?"
"The transfer isn't legal until the notary files the deed with the county register of deeds," Julian explained. "The notary they used tonight is a woman named Clara Thomas. She’s corrupt. Grant has paid her off before for fraudulent property assessments. She won't file the paperwork until Monday morning at nine. We have forty-eight hours to prove the signature was obtained under duress and cognitive impairment, and that Grant is committing active fraud."
"How do we do that?"
"We need Grant's laptop," Julian said. "He keeps a physical ledger and the encrypted keys to the Cayman account on a secure flash drive that he carries with him at all times. It's likely in his briefcase, which is currently at Sarah's cabin. If we can get that flash drive, we can prove he is the one manipulating the accounts, not you."
I looked at my watch. It was midnight.
"They think I'm asleep in Wausau," I said. "They'll be asleep soon, too. In my best friend's bed."
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"It's too dangerous to break in, Emily. If they catch you—"
"I don't need to break in," I said, a dark smile forming on my face. "I have the keys to the cabin. I've had them for ten years. And I know exactly how to get in without making a sound."
