Chapter 5 - The Web Unravels
Deputy Martinez stepped between Simon and Larkin, firmly separating the screaming lovers on the driveway.
"That's enough!" the deputy ordered sternly. "Miss Price, get in your vehicle and leave this neighborhood immediately. Mr. Kincaid, finish packing your personal clothes into that duffel bag, or you will spend the afternoon in county lockup."
Larkin scrambled into her red convertible, sobbing in pure terror and rage. She slammed the door, backed out of the driveway at reckless speed, and tore down the street, leaving Simon standing alone in the humid June heat.
Simon looked around the quiet, sun-drenched street.
Neighbors had emerged onto their front porches. Marcus Rivera and his wife, Elena, stood near their gate, watching the spectacle with arms crossed and expressions of hard, unyielding judgment.
Several veteran officers from the naval amphibious base walked out to their sidewalks, their eyes fixed on the man who had dishonored a deployed commander's home.
Simon grabbed his duffel bag with trembling hands, his expensive loafers covered in garden dirt, his posture completely broken.
"Willa, please," Simon whispered, his voice cracking into a desperate, pathetic plea as he looked at me through the car window. "I made a terrible mistake. I was lonely. I was stressed about my business. You have to understand!"
"You were lonely with my savings account in Cabo San Lucas, Simon," I answered, not rolling down the glass. "Get off my property."
Deputy Martinez escorted Simon to a waiting yellow taxi that had pulled up to the curb. Simon slumped into the back seat, burying his face in his hands, weeping openly as the cab carried him away from Coronado.
I walked through the front door of our home, closing the oak door behind me with a solid, echoing thud.
The silence in the foyer was deafening, but it was no longer poisoned by deceit.
Captain Torres walked in behind me, placing her briefcase on the dining table and pulling out a yellow legal pad.
"We just received the preliminary NCIS financial report, Willa," Rachel said, her expression serious. "It's worse than we thought."
"How much did they take?" I asked, leaning against the archway.
"Over the last fourteen months, Simon and Larkin channeled one hundred and forty-two thousand dollars through Apex Brand Velocity," Rachel revealed. "They took out personal loans against your home equity line of credit using a forged military power of attorney."
My blood ran icy cold in my veins. "He forged my signature on a federal military power of attorney?"
"Yes," Rachel confirmed with grim satisfaction. "Which elevates this case from a state civil divorce matter directly into the jurisdiction of the United States Attorney's Office for the Southern District of California."
I took a deep, steady breath, feeling the righteous fire of an officer and a mother blazing in my soul.
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Simon had believed that my deployment across the Pacific Ocean made me powerless to protect what was mine.
He was about to discover that when you strike a naval commander's family, the retaliation is total, relentless, and unyielding.
