Chapter 4 - The Discovery
Caroline didn't come to my house that afternoon. Instead, she turned off her phone, retreating behind Brandon’s closed doors in their upscale neighborhood. I spent the remainder of Saturday sitting at Margaret’s antique oak dining table, reviewing the certified financial records Frank Miller had successfully subpoenaed through an emergency court injunction.
What lay before me wasn't just a case of reckless overspending. It was an elaborate web of systematic deception.
Brandon had opened five separate high-interest credit lines using Caroline's identity, running up balances totaling nearly $90,000. But the real shock came when Frank’s forensic accountant delivered the bank statements from Buckeye Asset Holdings—the shell company Richard Prescott operated.
The $120,000 equity stripped from Caroline's home hadn't gone into commercial real estate or business development. It had been funneled through an offshore online casino account and used to settle massive personal debts Richard had accumulated from failed margin trades. Richard Prescott was broke. The luxury cars in his driveway were leased under commercial paper with payments three months past due. The grand mansion in the golf community had two pending liens filed against it by local subcontractors who hadn't been paid for renovations.
The Prescotts were living in a house of cards, using Brandon to secure loans against Caroline—and by extension, against me—to keep the illusion alive for one more quarter.
Even worse, tucked inside the credit card statement was the itemized receipt for the $8,200 jewelry purchase Brandon had made three months prior. It wasn't a diamond pendant for Caroline. The receipt listed a custom platinum tennis bracelet, engraved with the initials ""B & V.""
Caroline’s middle name was Marie.
I picked up the phone and dialed Tommy Ramirez, a retired Millbrook police officer who now ran a private investigative firm out of Canton. Tommy had worked security for my shop back when we were both young men.
""Tommy, I need a rush job,"" I said without preamble. ""I need to know who 'V' is. She’s connected to Brandon Prescott.""
Tommy let out a dry laugh. ""Walter, you don’t need an investigator for that. Millbrook is a small town. Brandon has been parading around the country club for six months with Victoria Vance—the daughter of the municipal planning commissioner. Everybody knows Brandon’s been trying to get her father to rezone the north parcels for commercial development, and everybody knows they spend half their weekends together at the lake cabin.""
The room seemed to spin. ""Everybody knows?"" I asked, my voice cracking.
""Everybody except Caroline, apparently,"" Tommy said gently, his tone softening with genuine sympathy. ""Walter, I’m sorry. Brandon has been telling people at the club that his marriage to Caroline was practically over, that she was an unsophisticated small-town girl who couldn't keep up with his social circle, and that he was just waiting to secure the family equity before filing for divorce.""
The sheer audacity of it left me breathless. Brandon had stood in my house, eaten my food, kissed my daughter, and taken tens of thousands of dollars from my pocket, all while planning to discard Caroline the moment he squeezed the last cent out of her credit history. And on Thanksgiving, he had kicked my chair away to prove to his parents and his mistress's social circle that he had total dominion over the Bennett family.
""Tommy,"" I said, gripping the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white. ""I need certified photos, dates, receipts, and flight records. Everything you can pull on Brandon and this girl over the last six months. And I need them delivered to my shop by Monday morning.""
""You got it, Walter,"" Tommy replied. ""Give 'em hell.""
May you like
I hung up the phone and walked into the dark living room. On the mantle sat a framed picture of Margaret holding seven-year-old Caroline on her shoulders at the county fair. Margaret had made me promise on her deathbed that I would protect our girl from anything that could break her spirit.
I had failed to protect her from marrying a monster. But I would be damned if I let him destroy her future.
