Chapter 7
I drove back without speaking.
Andre kept glancing at me.
Finally he said,
"Don't do this."
"Do what?"
"Assume the worst."
I laughed.
"That strategy hasn't exactly worked out for me."
"Mom isn't Rachel."
"I know."
"Then ask her."
I did.
Mom was sitting at the kitchen table in Andre's apartment when we arrived.
Charles was across from her.
They both looked exhausted.
I placed the travel reservation on the table.
Mom read it.
Her face changed.
"What is this?"
"You tell me."
She looked up.
"I've never seen it."
"Rachel bought you a ticket to Miami."
Mom stared at me.
"Why?"
"That's what I'm asking."
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
Charles leaned closer.
"What date?"
"Next Friday."
He went pale.
"What?"
"You know something?"
He leaned back.
"Rachel told me she wanted to send Denise away."
Mom turned.
"You never told me that."
"I didn't think she meant literally."
I stared at him.
"What exactly did she say?"
Charles thought carefully.
"She said you were interfering."
He pointed toward Mom.
"She asked whether I'd pay for Denise to take a vacation."
Mom looked disgusted.
"And you agreed?"
"No."
"Did you give Rachel money?"
Charles hesitated.
I stood.
"Did you?"
"Not for that."
"How much money have you given her?"
He rubbed his forehead.
"I don't know."
That answer stunned me.
"You don't know?"
"Over the years."
"Estimate."
He looked ashamed.
"Maybe two hundred thousand."
Andre whistled.
Mom stared at him.
"You gave that girl two hundred thousand dollars?"
"Not at once."
"That somehow makes it better?"
Charles shook his head.
"No."
I sat down.
Everything about Rachel suddenly made more sense.
Every crisis disappeared because Dad paid.
Every lie survived because someone covered it.
Every consequence was negotiable.
Until now.
My phone rang.
Detective Brooks.
She had news.
Curtis Vale had agreed to speak voluntarily.
That surprised everyone.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because according to his attorney, he says he didn't send the threatening messages."
I frowned.
"What?"
"He admits lending money to Evan."
"But denies threatening my family?"
"Correct."
"What about the photos?"
"He says they weren't his."
I looked at Andre.
"Then whose were they?"
"We're investigating."
By afternoon, the situation became stranger.
Police traced the anonymous number.
It had been purchased using cash.
Security footage showed the buyer wearing a baseball cap.
But the build didn't match Curtis.
It looked slimmer.
Female.
Detective Brooks sent me a still image.
I stared at it.
Andre leaned over my shoulder.
"That's Rachel."
I wanted to deny it.
I couldn't.
The purse.
The coat.
The way she stood.
I'd seen that posture every day for six years.
Mom whispered,
"Why would she threaten us?"
Charles answered.
"To make Curtis look dangerous."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
He understood before I did.
"Because she needed someone else blamed if something happened."
My stomach turned.
The anonymous threats.
The photographs.
The deadline.
Rachel had created a perfect villain.
A dangerous lender.
Someone who could be blamed if I had an accident.
Someone police would investigate instead of her.
I called Detective Brooks.
Twenty minutes later, she confirmed they were looking into that possibility.
Then something unexpected happened.
Curtis himself requested to speak to me.
Brooks didn't like it.
Neither did I.
But the meeting happened at the police station.
He was nothing like I expected.
Curtis Vale wore a navy suit.
Mid-forties.
Calm voice.
No visible intimidation.
His attorney sat beside him.
"I'm not a good man, Sergeant."
That was how he started.
"I lend money at rates banks wouldn't approve."
I stared at him.
"But I don't kill soldiers for unpaid debt."
"Did you threaten Evan?"
"Financially."
"What does that mean?"
"I told him I'd sue him."
I almost laughed.
"That's your terrifying threat?"
Curtis smiled slightly.
"Evan enjoys exaggeration."
His attorney slid documents across the table.
Loan agreements.
Promissory notes.
All legal.
Aggressive interest.
But legal.
Curtis continued.
"Evan borrowed one hundred twenty thousand from me."
"He said one eighty."
"He owes other people."
"Did Rachel know?"
"Oh yes."
He leaned back.
"In fact, Mrs. Carter negotiated the last extension."
I stared at him.
"When?"
"Three weeks ago."
"What did she offer?"
Curtis' expression changed.
"That's why I'm here."
He slid another document toward me.
It was a proposed repayment agreement.
The collateral section listed real estate.
My house.
I stared at the page.
"She can't offer my house."
"I know."
Curtis tapped the bottom.
"Your signature is forged."
Again.
My jaw tightened.
"I refused it."
That surprised me.
"Why?"
"Because I checked ownership records."
He shrugged.
"I'm a lender, Sergeant. Not an idiot."
I looked at him differently.
"Then why did Rachel think she owed you by Friday?"
"Because that was the deadline before I filed suit."
I leaned back.
So Rachel had turned a lawsuit deadline into a death threat.
Curtis watched me.
"There's something else."
Of course there was.
"Mrs. Carter asked me a strange question."
"What?"
"She wanted to know how much debt disappears when a borrower dies."
My skin went cold.
"When?"
"Two weeks ago."
Detective Brooks leaned forward.
"What exactly did she say?"
Curtis repeated it.
Word for word.
"If Evan died, would his debt become my problem?"
I stared at him.
Not if Marcus died.
Evan.
Suddenly the entire story changed again.
Rachel hadn't only been planning around me.
Maybe Evan wasn't her partner anymore.
Maybe he had become another problem she intended to remove.
When I got home that evening, Andre was waiting.
His face was grim.
"Police called."
"What now?"
"They searched Rachel's SUV."
I braced myself.
He held up his phone.
"They found a second insurance policy."
I closed my eyes.
"On me?"
Andre shook his head.
"No."
"Then who?"
His answer made my stomach drop.
May you like
"Evan."
"And Rachel is the sole beneficiary."
