Chapter 3 - The Twenty-Five-Million-Dollar Lie
Nora didn't sleep.
At 2:15 in the morning, she sat in the study with every light on while Edgar remained outside on the patio.
She had allowed him to stay only because the police had advised them not to disturb anything further until detectives arrived.
Kristina remained in custody for questioning.
The rattlesnake was gone.
Yet Nora had never felt less safe inside her own home.
On her laptop, the photograph from the anonymous number filled the screen.
Kristina.
Heather.
And Charles Brennan, Nora's financial advisor of seven years.
The timestamp in the corner was from three weeks earlier.
Nora zoomed in.
Charles was leaning toward Kristina.
A folder rested on the table between them.
Nora recognized the logo.
His firm's logo.
She called Daniel.
Her attorney answered on the second ring.
“Nora?”
“I need you to listen without interrupting.”
She told him everything.
The snake.
Kristina's words.
Heather.
Edgar's affair.
The child.
The photograph.
When Nora finished, Daniel was silent.
Then he said, “Don't confront Charles.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good. And don't cancel the policy yet.”
Nora frowned.
“Why?”
“If someone is attempting insurance fraud or conspiracy, changing things tonight could alert them.”
“I'd prefer not to remain worth twenty-five million dollars dead.”
“You won't. Tomorrow morning we'll change the beneficiary and lock everything down. But first I want copies of every communication regarding how that policy was recommended.”
Nora opened her email.
The original message from Charles was there.
Given your expanding travel schedule and exposure to operational risk, I strongly advise increasing your life coverage.
Perfectly reasonable.
At the time.
She searched further.
Three months of emails.
Nothing suspicious.
Then she remembered something.
Charles had asked unusually detailed questions about her marriage.
Would Edgar remain dependent on her income if she died?
Did they have children?
Were they considering estate planning?
Had Nora established trusts?
She had assumed they were standard financial-planning questions.
Now they sounded different.
“Nora?”
“I'm here.”
“Who sent the photograph?”
“I don't know.”
“Don't respond.”
Too late.
Another message arrived.
Charles didn't choose you randomly. Kristina introduced him to Heather first.
Nora showed Daniel by reading the message aloud.
“Someone is feeding you information.”
“Obviously.”
“They may be helping you.”
“Or manipulating me.”
“Exactly.”
Nora looked through the glass doors.
Edgar stood outside, staring into the darkness.
“There's another question.”
“What?”
“Why would anyone use a rattlesnake?”
Daniel exhaled.
“To make it look accidental.”
“That's what I thought.”
Arizona made the story plausible.
A snake entering a house wasn't impossible.
A grieving husband discovering his wife dead after an apparent wildlife accident could attract sympathy rather than suspicion.
But the method also had a flaw.
It was unpredictable.
The snake might crawl out.
It might never bite.
It might be discovered.
It was an amateur plan.
Which sounded like Kristina.
But insurance fraud involving twenty-five million dollars wasn't amateur.
That suggested two different levels of planning.
Nora's thoughts shifted.
“Daniel, check whether Charles receives any commission connected to the policy.”
“I will.”
“And check whether there were any recent attempts to change ownership or beneficiary instructions.”
“Nora, those changes require your authorization.”
“They're supposed to.”
Daniel went quiet.
“I'll check.”
At eight the next morning, detectives returned.
Nora gave a formal statement.
Officers collected the hallway security footage and photographed the bedroom.
Kristina claimed she had found the snake near the back patio and panicked.
Her story made little sense.
Why would someone who feared a snake place it in a cloth sack, carry it upstairs, and put it beneath bedding?
Investigators weren't convinced.
But Nora learned something important: Kristina had not yet been formally charged with attempted murder.
The investigation would take time.
Nora hated that phrase.
Time was something people planning to harm her could use.
By nine-thirty, Daniel arrived with two colleagues.
Edgar had gone to a hotel.
Nora had not asked where.
Daniel placed a folder on the dining table.
“We have a problem.”
“How large?”
“Potentially enormous.”
Nora sat.
“The insurance policy is legitimate. However, Charles Brennan submitted it through a brokerage structure that pays substantial commissions.”
“How substantial?”
“Just over seven hundred thousand dollars across several stages.”
Nora stared at him.
“For selling me insurance?”
“Essentially.”
“Would he lose that if I canceled?”
“Some of it, yes.”
“That gives him motive to push the policy. Not to kill me.”
Daniel nodded.
“There's more.”
He showed her a photocopy.
“Yesterday afternoon, someone contacted the insurer requesting information about accelerated claim procedures in the event of accidental death.”
Nora felt her stomach twist.
“Who?”
“The request came from an email address that resembles Edgar's.”
She looked at the page.
edgar.finch.private@—
“That isn't his email.”
“We know.”
“Can it be traced?”
“Police can pursue that.”
Nora leaned back.
Someone had created a fake email account pretending to be her husband.
Someone wanted an insurance company to associate Edgar with questions about Nora's death.
Was the plan to enrich Edgar?
Or frame him?
Daniel seemed to have reached the same conclusion.
“Nora, suppose Kristina succeeded. You die. Edgar receives twenty-five million dollars. Then investigators discover an affair, a possible child, and an email from ‘Edgar’ asking about accidental-death claims.”
“He'd look guilty.”
“Extremely.”
“And if he were arrested?”
“The beneficiary situation becomes complicated.”
Nora stared at him.
“Who receives the money?”
“If the beneficiary is legally disqualified, the payment could revert to your estate depending on policy terms.”
“My estate goes to…”
She stopped.
Her existing estate documents had been written five years earlier.
If Edgar predeceased her or was unable to inherit, part went to charitable organizations.
But another portion…
Nora stood.
“My family trust.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Your secondary trustee is Kristina.”
The room tilted.
Nora had forgotten.
Years earlier, when she loved Kristina, when they had been close, she had named her as backup trustee.
Daniel immediately understood.
“If Edgar were arrested or disqualified, Kristina could potentially gain temporary control over assets depending on how events unfolded.”
Nora whispered, “She wasn't just trying to make him rich.”
“No.”
“She could have been trying to control everything herself.”
Daniel didn't answer.
A doorbell interrupted them.
Nora checked the camera.
Heather stood outside holding a baby.
Nora's entire body tensed.
Daniel said, “You don't have to let her in.”
“Yes, I do.”
Nora opened the door.
Heather Perkinson looked younger than Nora expected.
Maybe thirty.
She had red-rimmed eyes and no makeup.
A sleeping little boy rested against her shoulder.
“Nora?”
“Yes.”
Heather's voice shook.
“I know I'm the last person you want to see.”
“You're probably right.”
Heather lowered her eyes.
“I deserve that.”
Nora looked at the child.
He had dark curls and one fist tucked under his chin.
Something inside Nora hurt in a place she wasn't prepared to examine.
“Why are you here?”
“Because someone broke into my apartment again this morning.”
Heather held out an envelope.
“They left this.”
Inside was a copy of the DNA test.
Edgar Finch: excluded as biological father.
And beneath it, handwritten in red ink:
KEEP LYING OR YOU LOSE EVERYTHING.
Daniel stepped closer.
“May I?”
Heather handed it over.
Nora looked at her.
“Who is the father?”
Heather's eyes filled.
“A man I dated after Edgar.”
“So Kristina knew Edgar wasn't the father.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you let Edgar believe he might be?”
Heather looked ashamed.
“Because Kristina paid me.”
Nora went still.
“How much?”
“Five thousand dollars a month.”
“For what?”
“To keep Edgar emotionally attached to the idea that the child could be his.”
Nora felt anger rise.
“Why?”
“She said she wanted him to leave you.”
“And you agreed?”
“At first.”
Heather's tears spilled.
“I was angry. Edgar ended things. I was pregnant. I didn't know who the father was yet, and Kristina told me Edgar owed me.”
Nora's voice hardened.
“You weren't a helpless bystander.”
“No.”
Heather met her eyes.
“I did something terrible.”
The honesty stopped Nora from responding immediately.
Heather continued.
“But six months ago I got the DNA test. I told Kristina it was over.”
“And she paid for another copy?”
“She insisted.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Nora glanced at Daniel.
“What changed three weeks ago?”
Heather paled.
“What do you mean?”
Nora showed her the restaurant photograph.
Heather stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“Anonymous message.”
Heather looked terrified.
“That meeting wasn't about Edgar.”
“Then what was it about?”
Heather sat slowly.
The baby stirred.
She kissed his head before answering.
“Charles wanted me to sign something.”
“What?”
“A statement saying Edgar had told me he expected to become wealthy soon.”
Nora's blood chilled.
“Did you sign it?”
“No.”
“Why would Charles want that?”
“He said it would protect me if Edgar ever denied promises he'd made.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I know.”
Heather opened her purse.
“I took a picture of the document.”
She handed Nora her phone.
The photograph was blurry but readable.
The statement described Edgar discussing Nora's insurance.
Except Edgar hadn't known the amount.
Someone was building a case against him before Nora was even dead.
Nora looked at Daniel.
“This isn't about killing me and giving Edgar the money.”
“No,” Daniel said quietly.
“It's about killing me, framing Edgar, and taking control afterward.”
Heather whispered, “There's something else.”
Nora almost didn't want to ask.
“What?”
“Charles and Kristina knew each other long before he became your advisor.”
“How long?”
Heather swallowed.
“Twenty-three years.”
Nora stared at her.
Heather opened another photograph.
It was old, probably taken in the early 2000s.
Kristina looked much younger.
Beside her stood Charles Brennan.
His arm was around her waist.
They were kissing.
Nora's heart pounded.
“They were together?”
Heather nodded.
“I found the photo in Kristina's house.”
Daniel took it.
Nora thought through seven years of advice, investments, insurance plans, estate documents.
Charles had known every detail of her finances.
Kristina had been backup trustee.
Edgar had been sole insurance beneficiary.
And Nora had trusted all of them.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
This time she answered.
“Hello?”
A distorted voice said only six words.
“You should check your company accounts.”
Then the call ended.
Nora looked at Daniel.
“What?”
She was already opening her laptop.
Her company banking portal appeared.
She logged in.
At first everything looked normal.
Then she opened pending transfers.
Her breath stopped.
A wire transfer for $4.8 million had been scheduled from one of her corporate reserve accounts.
Destination:
A private holding company in Nevada.
Authorized signer:
Nora Preston.
Except Nora had never authorized it.
And the transfer was scheduled to execute at nine the next morning.
Someone wasn't waiting for her to die anymore.
May you like
Someone had realized the rattlesnake failed.
And now they were moving the money before Nora could discover how deep the betrayal went.
