Chapter 3: Sixty-Four Thousand Dollars
Linda turned around so quickly that her coat slipped from one shoulder.
“That paper means nothing,” she said.
“David is trying to embarrass me because you poisoned him against his own mother.”
I took the document from his hand.
A line of credit for $64,000 had been opened in my name, secured against our house.
“Tell me this is a mistake,” I said.
David lowered the microphone.
“It isn’t.”
“When did you find it?”
“Eleven days ago.”
The room seemed to tilt beneath me.
I placed one hand on the cake table to keep myself upright.
“You knew for eleven days?”
“I was gathering proof.”
“You slept beside me for eleven nights and said nothing.”
Linda marched back toward us.
“Because he knew you would overreact, just like you’re doing now.”
“My name is on this document.”
“You’re married,” Linda said.
“There is no ‘your money’ and ‘his money.’ It belongs to the family.”
“You are not part of our marriage.”
Her smile disappeared.
David stepped between us.
“The money went into an account connected to your address, Mom.”
“I borrowed it.”
“You forged her signature.”
“Watch how you speak to me.”
“No,” he said.
“You watch how you speak to my wife.”
Several guests began applauding, but I raised my hand.
“Please don’t.
Not yet.”
The room went silent again.
I faced David.
“How did you get her phone?”
“She left it on the table.
A message appeared from someone named Brenda saying, ‘Make sure she doesn’t contact the bank before Monday.’”
Linda lunged for the document.
David pulled it away.
“You had no right to read my messages!” she snapped.
“And you had no right to use my identity,” I said.
“What was the money for?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Linda looked toward the guests, searching for a sympathetic face.
No one moved.
“I needed to protect what your husband will inherit one day.”
“Protect it from whom?”
“From you.”
The word landed harder than the cake had.
The restaurant manager, a woman named Mia, walked over carrying a clear plastic sleeve.
“Ma’am,” she said to me, “I put the original envelope inside this.
There are security cameras over the cake table and both exits.”
Linda pointed at her.
“Stay out of family business.”
Mia didn’t move.
“It stopped being private when you humiliated a paying guest in my dining room.”
“I’ll have you fired.”
“I own the restaurant.”
A few guests murmured, and Linda’s mouth tightened.
Mia handed me the sleeve.
“I’ll preserve tonight’s footage.
If anyone asks me to erase it, the request will also be saved.”
Linda stared at her phone in David’s hand.
“Give it back,” she said quietly.
“Now.”
David removed the phone’s case and pulled out a folded receipt.
“What is that?” I asked.
“A transfer confirmation,” he said.
“Forty-eight thousand dollars was moved last month.
Another sixteen thousand is scheduled to move tomorrow morning.”
I looked at Linda.
“You were going to take the rest after my birthday?”
“You were never supposed to see those papers.”
My own phone rang inside my purse.
The screen showed our bank’s fraud department.
I answered on speaker.
“Mrs.
Taylor?” a woman asked.
“We need to confirm an urgent change requested on your account.”
“What change?”
“A request was made ten minutes ago to remove David Taylor as an authorized contact and transfer the remaining balance.”
Linda stopped reaching for her phone.
The woman continued, “The request was submitted using your password.”
