Chapter 6 - BRENDA’S REAL NAME
6
Brenda called at 7:18 that evening.
Not my phone.
Christopher’s.
That was the first sign she knew far more than I had assumed.
My father answered on speaker.
“Christopher Lindqvist.”
Her voice shook.
“Is Genevieve there?”
I stepped closer.
“I’m here.”
Silence.
Then:
“Toby is safe.”
“Let me hear him.”
“Genevieve—”
“Let me hear my son.”
A rustling sound.
Then Toby’s voice.
“Mom?”
My eyes filled instantly.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Aunt Brenda says we’re playing the quiet game.”
I almost laughed and cried at the same time.
“Are you scared?”
“No. She bought me chicken nuggets.”
Of course she had.
“Where is Daddy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay. Listen to Brenda, but don’t go anywhere without her telling me first. Understand?”
“Okay.”
“Love you.”
“Love you bigger.”
The phone moved.
Brenda returned.
“You have thirty minutes.”
“To do what?”
“Meet me.”
“Where?”
“No police.”
Christopher frowned.
I said, “You’re in no position to demand anything.”
“I’m the reason your son isn’t on a plane.”
That silenced me.
She gave us a location.
A closed medical office owned by one of Christopher’s companies.
That meant she had researched his property portfolio.
Again, not random.
Christopher’s security team surrounded the area discreetly.
I went inside with Rachel.
Brenda stood in a dark reception room with Toby beside her.
The second he saw me, he ran.
I dropped to my knees.
His body hit mine so hard I nearly fell backward.
For several seconds, nothing existed except my son.
His hair.
His little arms around my neck.
His smell.
Warm chicken nuggets and the strawberry shampoo Chad always bought because Toby liked the bottle.
“I thought you were dead,” he whispered.
I froze.
“What?”
“Daddy said the paper people said you were dead.”
I closed my eyes.
Then held him tighter.
“I’m not.”
“I know.”
Brenda stood several feet away.
No smug smile now.
No courtroom confidence.
She looked terrified.
Rachel took Toby into another room with a security officer he already knew from Christopher’s house.
Then I faced Brenda.
“You smiled when I was sentenced.”
Her eyes lowered.
“Yes.”
“You sat beside my husband while he lied.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the fraud?”
“Some of it.”
“How much?”
She inhaled.
“I knew he was moving money.”
“Using my identity?”
“I knew he was using credentials connected to you.”
“So yes.”
“Yes.”
I slapped her.
Rachel did not stop me.
Brenda’s face turned sideways.
She touched her cheek.
“I deserved that.”
“Don’t make yourself sympathetic.”
“I’m not.”
“Why help Toby?”
“Because Chad changed the plan.”
“What plan?”
She looked toward the hallway.
“The plan was never supposed to involve him physically.”
I laughed bitterly.
“He was always the point.”
“Financially, yes.”
The distinction disgusted me.
“What changed?”
“Chad received a call after sentencing.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“He left the courthouse happy. Then an hour later he was furious.”
“Why?”
“Because someone told him the original continuity amendment might exist.”
My mother.
The document inside my townhouse wall.
“He thought Eleanor had it,” Brenda said. “He went after her.”
“And you?”
“I started looking through his laptop.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me we were leaving together.”
“But?”
“There was only one ticket to Portugal under his name.”
I almost smiled.
“Surprised?”
She ignored it.
“The second adult ticket was under another woman’s name.”
“Who?”
Brenda looked at me.
“Not Eleanor.”
“Then who?”
She hesitated.
“Danielle Voss.”
The notary.
“Who is she?”
“Chad’s real partner.”
My stomach tightened.
“You were his mistress.”
“I was useful.”
“And Danielle?”
“She built the financial structure.”
Rachel stepped forward.
“Canyon Ridge?”
Brenda nodded.
“She controls the Nevada companies, the foreign accounts, the document service businesses. She created the vendor shells used in Genevieve’s fraud case.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“For money.”
“That isn’t enough.”
“No.”
Brenda swallowed.
“Her father went to prison twenty-two years ago.”
Christopher, standing in the doorway behind us, became still.
Brenda looked at him.
“His name was Marcus Voss.”
Christopher’s expression told me he recognized it.
“Who?” I asked.
My father answered slowly.
“My former controller.”
The room went quiet.
“What happened?”
“He embezzled from one of my companies.”
Brenda laughed nervously.
“That’s what everyone was told.”
Christopher’s face hardened.
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I saw Danielle’s files.”
“What files?”
“She believes her father was framed.”
Christopher stared.
“By whom?”
Brenda looked at my mother’s name in her notes.
“Eleanor.”
My chest tightened.
“My mother?”
“Marcus Voss discovered money disappearing from Lindqvist accounts. He blamed Eleanor. Before he could finish his internal report, evidence suddenly appeared showing he had stolen it.”
I looked at Christopher.
He seemed stunned.
Brenda continued.
“He was convicted.”
Just like me.
A CFO or controller.
Financial evidence.
Fabricated transactions.
My mother’s stolen money.
The same pattern.
Twenty-two years earlier.
“What happened to him?”
“He died in prison.”
Nobody moved.
Christopher whispered, “Heart attack.”
“Danielle was twelve.”
I began to understand.
“She thinks my mother framed her father.”
“Yes.”
“And she helped Chad frame me.”
“Yes.”
“To repeat what happened.”
Brenda nodded.
“Danielle called it symmetry.”
The word made me cold.
Rachel asked, “How did Chad meet her?”
“Through Eleanor.”
My head snapped around.
“Again?”
Brenda nodded.
“Years ago.”
My mother had not simply recruited Chad.
She had also crossed paths with the daughter of a man allegedly ruined by her theft.
“What did Chad promise Danielle?”
“A share.”
“Of my trust?”
“Of anything he could access after you were convicted.”
I stared at her.
“And you?”
Brenda looked embarrassed.
“I thought I would get ten million.”
I laughed.
She flinched.
“You helped send me to prison for ten million dollars.”
“I didn’t understand all of it.”
“You understood enough to smile.”
“Yes.”
At least she didn’t deny it.
Christopher asked where Danielle was.
Brenda shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Chad?”
“No.”
“What do you know?”
She pulled a flash drive from inside her coat.
“Everything I copied from his laptop.”
Rachel took it.
Brenda continued.
“There are messages, account numbers, drafts of the custody petition, copies of the forged death certificate, payments to the forensic expert who testified against Genevieve.”
My heart jumped.
“Payments?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Eighty thousand.”
“To Dr. Nolan?”
She nodded.
The expert whose testimony had helped convict me.
The man who told jurors there was “no plausible alternative explanation” for the login records.
My knees almost weakened from relief.
Evidence.
Real evidence.
Not theories.
Brenda wasn’t finished.
“There’s also an insurance policy.”
Rachel frowned.
“On whom?”
Brenda looked at me.
“You.”
I stared.
“How much?”
“Five million.”
“Chad always had life insurance on me.”
“This one was opened four months ago.”
My mouth went dry.
“Beneficiary?”
“Not Chad.”
“Who?”
“Toby.”
That didn’t sound sinister until Brenda continued.
“Controlled by a trust.”
“Whose trustee?”
“Chad.”
The room became silent.
He had framed me for prison.
Tried to take my son.
Secured financial authority.
Bought foreign citizenship for Toby.
And four months earlier, insured my life for five million dollars through a trust he controlled.
I whispered, “Was prison enough?”
Brenda’s eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“I found a message between Chad and Danielle.”
Rachel asked, “What did it say?”
Brenda looked at me.
“Danielle asked what happened if your conviction was overturned.”
I could barely breathe.
“And?”
“Chad wrote, ‘Then we use the backup.’”
“What backup?”
“I didn’t know.”
She reached into her purse.
Pulled out a printed page.
Placed it in my hand.
It was a vehicle service invoice.
My SUV.
Brake system inspection.
Performed two weeks before my arrest.
I frowned.
“I never authorized this.”
Brenda whispered, “Look at the technician notes.”
I did.
One sentence had been highlighted.
CUSTOMER REQUESTED DISABLEMENT OF ELECTRONIC BRAKE WARNING SENSOR FOLLOWING MODIFICATION.
My heart stopped.
I had driven that SUV every day.
Often with Toby inside.
Brenda’s voice shook.
“Genevieve, prison wasn’t Chad’s backup plan.”
May you like
She pointed at the invoice.
“That was.”
