Chapter 12 - THE COUNTERATTACK
Lorraine filed for an order of protection the next morning.
She claimed I had threatened her.
She claimed I had struck her.
She claimed the cast-iron pot fell accidentally during an argument.
She even claimed I had manipulated Andrew because I controlled the money.
I sat in Rachel’s office and read the filing.
“This is unbelievable.”
Rachel shook her head.
“No. It’s predictable.”
Fortunately, I had photographs.
Texts.
The 911 timeline from later that day.
And one thing Lorraine had forgotten.
My bedroom camera.
Not Marcus’s hidden camera.
Mine.
I had installed a small interior pet camera six months earlier when our elderly cat became ill.
It captured the pot flying.
It captured Lorraine saying, “Get up and cook for my son.”
It captured me sitting still.
Rachel smiled for the first time.
“That will help.”
Andrew’s confession helped more.
He admitted the affair.
The secret company.
The loans.
The request for my signature sample.
He admitted knowing Lorraine had searched my paperwork.
He admitted asking Marcus how to get around my refusal to sign the equity line.
He denied telling anyone to forge.
But then he wrote:
I knew they might do it anyway, and I chose not to stop them because I wanted the money.
That sentence destroyed his innocence.
He also admitted something I did not expect.
Natalie had ended the affair two weeks before her death.
“She realized you were lying?” I asked when Detective Ruiz interviewed him again.
Andrew nodded.
“She realized all of us were.”
“All?”
“Me. Marcus. My mother.”
“What did Lorraine lie about?”
Andrew looked toward his lawyer.
Then answered.
“She told Natalie I was about to inherit money.”
I laughed bitterly.
“From who?”
“My mother.”
“Lorraine has no money.”
“I know.”
“Why tell her that?”
“To keep Natalie investing.”
Daniel heard about that and nearly broke down.
His sister had loaned Andrew money from the life-insurance payment she received after their father died.
Andrew had taken grief money from one woman while living in a house funded by another.
By then, anger had burned so cleanly inside me it no longer felt hot.
It felt precise.
The court hearing on Lorraine’s protective-order request lasted twenty-six minutes.
My camera footage played.
Lorraine watched herself throw the pot.
Her attorney stopped arguing.
The request was denied.
Outside the courthouse, reporters were waiting because the fraud investigation had leaked.
Lorraine turned toward me.
“This is what you wanted.”
“No.”
“You wanted to humiliate us.”
“I wanted you to stop hurting me.”
She leaned close.
“You will still lose the house.”
I smiled.
“No, Lorraine.”
Her confidence flickered.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
I looked at Rachel.
Rachel opened her folder.
Then I looked back at Lorraine.
“Andrew signed away most of his claim four years ago.”
Her mouth opened.
“And Grandpa kept a scanned copy.”
Lorraine actually staggered.
But before I could walk away, Detective Ruiz approached us.
“Mrs. Parker, I need you to come with me.”
Lorraine whispered, “Why?”
Ruiz held up a photograph of Lorraine’s SUV.
The front bumper had been removed.
May you like
Underneath, technicians had found old red paint.
Natalie’s car had been red.
