Chapter 7 - The Jailhouse Visit
The visitation room at the county correctional facility smelled of industrial bleach and stale, recycled air. I sat behind the scratched plexiglass partition, watching the heavy metal door unlock on the inmate side.
Nadine walked in with an awkward, shuffling gait, her hands chained to a waist belt that kept her movements severely restricted. She looked gaunt, her high-end lash extensions half-missing and her dyed blonde hair pulled back into a messy, uneven ponytail.
She picked up the heavy plastic phone receiver, slamming it against her ear with as much aggression as the chains permitted. "Did you come here to gloat, Claire?" she spat through the tiny perforations in the plastic.
"No, Nadine," I answered calmly, holding the corresponding receiver to my ear. "I came to deliver a formal message from the District Attorney's office."
Nadine sneered, though her lower lip trembled with barely concealed terror. "They're going to drop the charges, right? Mom told me you'd come to your senses once the wedding weekend passed."
"The wedding weekend passed two days ago, Nadine," I said gently, watching the harsh reality land on her like a physical blow. "Derek has already left for an extended vacation in Europe, alone. His family put the rehearsal dinner venue up for sublease."
Nadine’s face twisted into an ugly, agonized mask as fresh tears began to pour down her sallow cheeks. "Derek loves me! He's just under pressure from his snobbish parents! He'll come back for me!"
"Derek provided three sworn statements detailing how you forged his name on commercial catering and photography contracts," I informed her, keeping my tone completely neutral. "He is cooperating fully with the prosecution to avoid being named an unindicted co-conspirator."
She dropped her head against the plexiglass with a dull thud, her breath fogging up the scratched surface between us. "Why are you doing this to me, Claire? What did I ever do to make you hate me this much?"
"You stole one hundred and ten thousand dollars from me, Nadine," I replied, stunned that she still couldn't comprehend the basic reality of her actions. "You stood in front of forty people, raised a glass of champagne, and laughed in my face while daring me to stop you."
"It was just money!" she screamed into the receiver, causing the guard stationed in the corner to take a warning step forward. "You always had money! You always had your perfect career, your tidy little apartment, your clean credit! I had nothing!"
"I had those things because I woke up at five every morning and worked for them while you spent your twenties waiting for a wealthy man to fund your lifestyle," I said firmly. "You felt entitled to my life's labor because our parents never taught you the word 'no.'"
The guard tapped his wristwatch, signaling that our allotted fifteen minutes were nearly up. "The DA is offering a plea deal," I added, leaning closer to the partition. "Four years in state prison, full restitution upon release, and five years of supervised probation."
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"Four years?!" Nadine shrieked, clutching the receiver like a lifeline. "I can't go to prison for four years! My youth will be gone!"
"If you take it to trial, Vance and I have enough documentation to ensure you serve eight to twelve," I warned her coldly. "Sign the plea, Nadine. It's the only mercy you have left."
