Chapter 6 - Behind Cold Glass
Before leaving the federal building, I requested ten minutes in the visitor's room with Kayla Montgomery. Her attorneys had strongly advised her against speaking with me, but I had made Kenneth convey a very simple message: If you don't talk to me today, I will personally fund the civil suit that strips every designer bag, luxury watch, and offshore dollar your family has hidden.
She sat behind the plexiglass partition, wearing a bright orange county jail jumpsuit. Without her professional makeup, expensive hair extensions, and designer wardrobe, she looked remarkably ordinary—a twenty-eight-year-old girl with hollow cheeks, dark circles under her eyes, and cold, bitter hatred burning in her gaze.
""Did you come to gloat, Kimberly?"" she hissed into the telephone handset. ""Did you come to see the girl who almost took your precious dirt?""
I picked up my receiver, holding it steadily to my ear. ""I came to look you in the eye, Kayla. I wanted to see what kind of creature smiles at a mother, cries over family heirlooms, and then plans to lock that mother in an asylum.""
Kayla sneered, tapping her manicured nails—now chipped and dirty—against the glass. ""You think you're so noble. You're just a stubborn old peasant. Kevin hated your life. Did you know that? He hated waking up to the smell of diesel and sulfur. He hated that his mother looked like a field hand while his friends' mothers spent their summers in the Hamptons. He was embarrassed by you, Kimberly. I didn't have to convince him to ban you from the wedding. He was relieved when I suggested it.""
A sharp pang of grief struck my heart, but I refused to let it show in my eyes.
""Kevin is weak,"" I replied evenly. ""I sheltered him too much after his father died, and that was my greatest mistake. I made his life so easy that he never learned the difference between true value and cheap glitter. But Kevin’s weakness does not excuse your wickedness.""
""I was going to be a multi-millionaire,"" she whispered, her voice trembling with manic frustration. ""I played the game. Henderson promised me five million and a twenty percent stake in the luxury resort. We had investors lined up from Dubai! Everything was perfect until you locked those fucking gates!""
""You made one fatal calculation, Kayla,"" I said, leaning closer to the glass. ""You thought that because I work with my hands, my mind was simple. You thought because I don't wear couture gowns or attend cocktail parties in Manhattan, I wouldn't recognize a snake in my garden.""
She glared at me, her chest heaving beneath the orange fabric.
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""My husband and I fought off corporate raiders, droughts, fires, and bank foreclosures long before you were born,"" I continued, my voice steady as stone. ""You tried to conquer land you didn't understand, using a son you didn't love. Enjoy your trial, Kayla. Because when you finally walk out of prison in your forties, that dirt you mocked will still be flourishing under my name.""
I hung up the receiver while she was still screaming into the plastic mouthpiece, banging her fists against the glass as the guards pulled her away.
