Chapter 11 - The Confrontation in San Diego-11
I didn't let the discovery sit.
Leaving Ethan in the care of a trusted private nurse and guarded by Marcus’s security team, I flew to San Diego accompanied by my attorney, Sarah Jenkins.
We arrived at a quiet suburban home in La Jolla.
I walked up the walkway and rang the doorbell.
A young woman with long blonde hair, dressed in a comfortable maternity dress, opened the door. She looked at me with a warm, confused smile.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Are you Samantha Sterling?" I asked calmly.
"Yes," she replied. "Who are you?"
I pulled out a framed photograph of David from my handbag and held it up. "Do you know this man?"
Samantha’s smile widened instantly. "Oh! That's David! My fiancé! He's currently on a business trip in Oregon... wait, how do you know him?"
I looked at her with genuine pity. She had no idea.
"Samantha," I said softly. "David isn't on a business trip. He is currently being held in the Multnomah County Detention Center in Portland without bail."
Samantha laughed nervously, taking a step back. "What? That's ridiculous! Who are you? Is this a joke?"
Sarah Jenkins stepped forward, handing Samantha a certified copy of my marriage certificate, alongside the federal indictment papers filed against David and Theresa.
"My name is Valerie Vance," I said gently. "I am David's wife. And six days ago, David and his mother tried to murder my three-day-old son so they could steal his trust fund to buy a house for you."
Samantha stared at the marriage certificate, her face turning as white as paper. Her hands began to shake violently as she read the charges on the court documents: Attempted Murder in the First Degree... Child Endangerment... Wire Fraud.
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"No... no..." Samantha stammered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched her stomach. "He told me... he told me he was divorced... he said his ex-wife died two years ago... he said he inherited money from his late father..."
"He lied to you, Samantha," I said, stepping inside the entryway as she collapsed onto a chair, weeping hysterically. "And that five hundred thousand dollars he transferred to your trust fund two days ago? That was stolen directly from my son's medical trust. The FBI will freeze this house by tomorrow morning."
