Chapter 6 - Desperate Moves
The sudden transition from untouchable socialite to criminal defendant broke whatever remained of Denise’s composure. Desperate people do predictable things, and Denise was nothing if not entirely predictable when she was terrified.
On a rainy Thursday night, nearly a month after the dinner confrontation, I heard a violent, erratic knocking at the door of my apartment. I walked over, checked the digital peephole, and saw Denise standing in the corridor. Her hair was soaked from the rain, her expensive designer coat was buttoned crookedly, and she looked wild-eyed, clutching her handbag against her ribs like a shield.
I cracked the door open, keeping the heavy security chain firmly engaged. "You shouldn't be here, Denise. Marcus told your attorney that all communications need to go through formal legal channels."
"Lucas, please," she begged, her voice cracking as she jammed her fingers into the gap between the door and the frame. "Please, just let me talk to you for five minutes. Just five minutes! I’m begging you!"
I looked at the woman who had made it her life's mission to make me feel subhuman in front of everyone I loved. There was no pleasure in seeing her like this; there was only a profound sense of closure. I unhooked the security chain, stepped back, and allowed her to walk into the foyer, leaving the front door wide open behind her.
"What do you want, Denise?" I asked, keeping my distance.
She turned around, her face smeared with mascara and rain. "Arthur went to the police. Did you know that? He went to the state prosecutor! They're talking about indicting me, Lucas! Felonies! Do you know what a prison sentence would do to me? To Greg? We’ll lose everything! Our house, our cars, our standing... everything!"
"You didn't seem concerned about consequences when you stole my mother's heirlooms," I said coldly. "Where is Grandma's diamond ring, Denise? Did you bring that with you tonight?"
Denise flinched, shrinking back against the wall. "I can get it back! I tracked down the pawn shop! I just need time! If you convince Arthur and your father to drop the civil petition and sign an affidavit stating this was an internal family misunderstanding, the district attorney won't proceed with the criminal charges! The prosecutor told our lawyer that without the victim siblings cooperating, they won't waste resources on an intra-family estate dispute!"
"You want us to lie to the state prosecutor to save you from going to prison?" I asked, shaking my head in utter disbelief. "After what you did?"
"I'll sign the lake house over to you!" she cried, lunging forward and grabbing both of my wrists with terrifying desperation. Her hands were ice-cold. "Not to David, not to Arthur—to you, Lucas! I’ll deed the entire property to your name alone! You can sell it, you can keep the seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, you can become the richest person in the family! You'll never have to work for anyone again! Just make Arthur drop the charges!"
I looked down at her hands, then slowly, deliberately, pulled my wrists out of her grip.
"You really don't understand, do you?" I said softly. "You think everyone has a price because you sold your own soul for a lake house and a few trips to Mexico. You think I did this to become rich?"
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"Then why did you do it?!" she screamed, her voice echoing down the apartment hallway. "Why did you dig into files from six years ago?! Why did you destroy my life?!"
"Because at the family reunion, when you held that microphone, you looked at my mother while she was crying and you smiled," I replied, my voice dropping to a whisper that cut through her hysteria like ice. "I didn't do this for money, Denise. I did this to make sure you never smile like that again."
