Chapter 3 - THE TRAP CLOSES ON TUESDAY
The following Tuesday arrived precisely as Patricia had outlined in her kitchen conversation.
According to the audio recording, that was the day Patricia was scheduled to claim she had a routine medical procedure, and Derek was supposed to take the morning off to drive her, using the alibi to spend an extended afternoon rendezvous with Gabriella.
At 10:00 AM, my phone buzzed at my office desk. It was a text message from Patricia herself.
Patricia: "Good morning, dear! Just letting you know Derek is running me over to the downtown clinic for my minor eye checkup this morning. Don't worry if he doesn't answer his cell right away; you know how strict those hospital reception areas are about phone usage!"
I stared at the screen, a cold, humorless smile touching my lips. She was still performing. She was still enjoying the sick game of treating me like an absolute fool.
Me: "Oh, thank you so much for letting me know, Mom! Hope everything goes well with her eyes. Tell Derek I love him when you see him!"
Patricia: "Will do, sweetie. You focus on your work!"
Ten minutes later, I received a private notification from Victoria Vance’s secure legal server.
“Financial freeze orders successfully executed on all primary and secondary accounts. Private investigator has confirmed subject Derek Carter and Gabriella Hayes entered the luxury rental unit at The Meridian at 10:15 AM. Video and photographic evidence secured. Ready when you are.”
I picked up my briefcase, notified my department head that I needed to handle an urgent family emergency, and drove straight home.
The house was quiet. I walked into our bedroom, opened the master closet, and systematically removed every single one of Derek’s clothes, dumping them into heavy black contractor trash bags. I gathered his toiletries, his spare shoes, and—with a deeply satisfying sense of closure—the silver anniversary bracelet he had fastened around my wrist eight months ago. I unclasped it, dropped it into the bottom of a cardboard box, and taped it shut.
Then, I drove over to Patricia’s house.
I didn't park down the street and sneak around the bushes this time. I drove my car right up her driveway, walked boldly to her front door, and pressed the doorbell.
Ding-dong.
May you like
Footsteps echoed inside, and a moment later, the front door swung open. Patricia stood there wearing a stylish floral blouse, holding a cup of tea, looking relaxed and triumphant.
Her smug expression evaporated the instant she saw it was me standing on her porch alone, holding a clipboard of legal papers instead of a bouquet of flowers.
