Chapter 13 - THE BRAKE LINE
Police took the insurance policy seriously.
They took my car even more seriously.
Two weeks before the dinner, I had nearly rear-ended a truck because my brake pedal suddenly went soft.
Michael told me the mechanic said it was normal wear.
It wasn’t.
A forensic inspection found a clean cut in one brake hose.
The detective called me at 7:15 the next morning.
“Do not contact your husband.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“We’re obtaining warrants.”
Michael was arrested again before noon, this time on charges connected to financial crimes and evidence tampering. Patricia was taken into custody later that afternoon.
The news vans arrived before the handcuffs did.
Patricia emerged from her home wearing sunglasses and a cream coat, looking annoyed rather than afraid.
As officers guided her toward the car, she spotted me across the street.
“You ruined this family!” she shouted.
I surprised myself by answering.
“No. I finally stopped protecting it.”
That clip ran on local news all night.
Then the mechanic who had inspected my brakes contacted police.
His name was Aaron Pike.
He admitted Michael had paid him cash to write a false invoice saying the brake line failed from corrosion.
“Did Michael cut it?” the detective asked.
Aaron shook his head.
“No.”
“Who did?”
Aaron gave them a name.
Leonard, Patricia’s driver.
By evening, Leonard had disappeared.
His apartment was empty.
His passport was gone.
But on his kitchen table, police found an envelope addressed to Patricia.
Inside was a handwritten note.
I DID WHAT YOU ASKED. NOW KEEP YOUR PROMISE.
Below that was a number.
$250,000.
May you like
And beside it, two words:
AFTER EMMA.
