Chapter 14 - CHAD’S LAST BETRAYAL
Chad broke within eleven minutes.
Federal investigators placed the insurance documents in front of him.
Twenty minutes later, he was crying.
I watched through the observation glass.
The man who had laughed while I was handcuffed now looked ten years older.
My attorney stood beside me.
“Do you want to hear it?”
“Yes.”
We entered.
Chad looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I sat across from him.
“No, you’re scared.”
His eyes dropped.
“Genevieve—”
“Tell me about the policy.”
He swallowed.
Two years earlier, Chad had purchased a five-million-dollar life insurance policy on me.
I remembered signing insurance documents.
I thought they were routine estate planning.
“They were supposed to protect Toby,” I said.
“They were.”
“Don't insult me.”
Chad started crying again.
“I wasn't going to kill you.”
“But Victor was.”
“I didn't know at first.”
“When did you find out?”
“Three months ago.”
I stared at him.
Three months.
For three months, my husband knew another man intended to kill me.
“And you said nothing.”
“I was afraid.”
“You still slept beside me.”
He covered his face.
“You kissed me.”
Silence.
“You let me make breakfast for you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You watched me pack Toby’s lunch while knowing somebody planned to murder his mother.”
Chad broke completely.
But I felt nothing.
That surprised me.
Months earlier, seeing him cry would have destroyed me.
Now he looked like a stranger.
“Where would the insurance money go?”
“To me.”
“And Meridian?”
“I thought I would control Toby’s share.”
I laughed softly.
“So that was the dream.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I leaned closer.
“You wanted the rich wife. When I didn't act rich enough, you started digging. You discovered my father. You discovered the trust. And instead of asking me one honest question, you decided my life belonged to you.”
He looked at me.
“I did love you.”
“Maybe.”
That hurt him more than calling him a liar.
“Maybe you did. Once.”
I stood.
“But somewhere along the way, you loved what you thought I was worth more.”
As I reached the door, Chad called my name.
“Genevieve.”
I turned.
“What?”
“Brenda didn't know about the murder plan.”
“I know.”
“I told her you were guilty.”
“I know.”
“I ruined everything.”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
“What happens to me?”
For the first time since the courtroom, I smiled.
“That’s not my problem anymore.”
Three weeks later, the criminal court formally vacated my conviction.
The prosecutor stood before the judge and admitted that electronic evidence had been manipulated.
Charges against me were dismissed.
Martin Hale pleaded guilty.
Victor faced kidnapping, conspiracy, fraud, attempted murder, and a list of federal charges long enough to keep attorneys busy for years.
Chad pleaded guilty to conspiracy, wire fraud, obstruction, identity theft, and evidence tampering.
My mother avoided prison only because she cooperated and because prosecutors couldn't prove she had known about the planned murder.
That did not mean I forgave her.
It meant a court didn't punish her.
Those were very different things.
Outside the courthouse, reporters surrounded me.
One shouted:
“Genevieve, what will you do now?”
I looked toward Christopher.
His shoulder was healing.
Toby stood beside him holding his hand.
I smiled.
“Go home.”
But I no longer owned my home.
My mother did.
At least, that was what she thought.
Because Christopher’s attorneys had discovered one more thing.
The forged power of attorney had made the sale invalid.
And the following morning, my mother received a notice.
The townhouse was mine again.
She called me crying.
I answered.
“Genevieve, where am I supposed to go?”
I thought about the day I was sentenced.
The way she had watched silently.
The way she had helped take my house while I was losing my freedom.
“I don't know, Mom.”
“You’re throwing me out?”
“No.”
I looked around my living room.
“I’m taking back what was mine.”
Silence.
Then I added:
May you like
“You have thirty days.”
And I hung up.
