Chapter 6 - Freezing the Well
By Thursday afternoon, the fallout from Dominic’s arrest had rippled through every corner of their social and professional circles. The local news ran a front-page segment on the elder fraud bust, complete with footage of Dominic being led out of his mother’s driveway in handcuffs. The regional tech firm where he held a middle-management role fired him before lunch, citing moral turpitude clauses in his employment agreement.
In the county jail’s glass-divided visiting booth, Amber sat across from her court-appointed public defender. Her designer clothes had been traded for an ill-fitting orange jumpsuit, her platinum-blonde hair unwashed and tied with a cheap rubber band.
“My parents won't post the bond?” Amber shrieked through the small intercom phone, tears smearing her mascara across her pale cheeks. “Did you explain to them that this was Dominic’s scheme? I’m their daughter!”
“Your father was very clear, Mrs. Vance,” the tired public defender replied, flipping through his legal pad. “He said you borrowed fifty thousand dollars from his retirement fund two years ago that was never repaid. He stated that you made your bed with Mr. Vance, and you can lie in it. Furthermore, the district attorney just added an accessory charge for attempting to conceal twelve thousand dollars in luxury goods inside your mother’s garage storage unit before you departed for Paris.”
Amber slammed the plastic telephone receiver against the metal counter. “I want to see Vera! Let me talk to the old woman! She’s soft-hearted! If I tell her Dominic is suicidal in his cell, she’ll drop the charges! She’s his mother, for God’s sake!”
“Mrs. Vance, if you attempt to contact Vera Vance in any way, whether by phone, letter, or third party, you will violate the protective order and face immediate revocation of any future parole possibilities,” the attorney warned sharply. “Mrs. Vance isn't soft-hearted anymore. She has hired Margaret Peterson and Marcus Reynolds. They aren't negotiating. They are demanding full asset liquidation.”
Across the facility in the men’s maximum processing ward, Dominic sat on a metal cot, staring at the concrete floor. The arrogance that had carried him through five-star European hotels had evaporated into cold, shivering dread. The inmates around him were hardened, their eyes devoid of sympathy for a man who had stolen his widowed mother’s home.
When Marcus Reynolds entered the attorney-client room, Dominic scrambled forward, pressing his cuffed hands against the steel table.
“Marcus! Thank God! Did Sarah send you? Did Mom change her mind?” Dominic pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. “Tell me she’s dropping the federal wire fraud counts! I’ll give back everything! I’ll sign over my 401(k)! I’ll surrender our luxury SUV! Just get me out of here before the arraignment!”
Marcus took a seat slowly, unbuttoning his tailored suit jacket and looking at his brother-in-law with pure disdain. “Sarah didn't send me to rescue you, Dominic. She sent me to make sure you understood the terms of the plea agreement we just handed the state prosecutor.”
Dominic swallowed hard. “What… what terms?”
“You will sign over every single liquid asset you possess,” Marcus said, each word falling like an anvil. “Your retirement fund, the titles to both your vehicles, your investment portfolio, and the security deposit on your penthouse apartment downtown. Everything will be placed into an irrevocable trust in Vera’s name to cover the legal fees, the property restoration, and the psychological damages you inflicted upon her.”
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“That will leave me with nothing!” Dominic cried out. “I won't even have first-and-last month’s rent when I get out! I’ll be homeless!”
Marcus leaned forward, his eyes burning with cold fury. “You put your mother in a taxi with eighty dollars and sent her to a facility where patients sleep on vinyl cots, Dominic. You didn't care if she was homeless. In fact, you were counting on her dying quietly so you would never have to answer for the deed. You should get down on your knees and thank God that Vera still possesses a shred of mercy, because if it were up to Sarah and me, you would spend the next decade in federal prison.”
