Chapter 3: The Voice on the Phone
Florence pressed the speaker button.
“Lydia?”
A woman drew a shaking breath.
“Don’t marry him.
Jeremy and I are still legally married.”
“That’s a lie,” Jeremy snapped.
“She has been trying to punish me for leaving.”
The biker moved closer to Florence.
“My name is Ray Brennan.
Lydia is my daughter, and the little girl in that photograph is my granddaughter, Sophie.”
Jeremy pointed toward the parking lot.
“You need to leave before the police arrive.”
“Let them come,” Ray said.
“I brought certified records.”
Florence unfolded the first page inside the envelope.
Her engagement ring tapped against the paper as she read.
“This says your divorce petition was dismissed.”
“Because Lydia refused to cooperate,” Jeremy said.
“My lawyer reopened it.”
“No, he didn’t,” Lydia replied through the phone.
“There was never another filing.”
Florence looked at Ray.
“You’re the man who answered when I called Lydia’s old number.”
Ray nodded.
“You said you needed proof before today.
Lydia was too frightened to come, so I promised I would.”
I stared at my daughter.
“You knew about Lydia?”
“I found the photograph four days ago,” Florence said.
“It was hidden in Jeremy’s desk.”
Jeremy stepped toward her.
“And I explained it.”
“You said she was an old girlfriend.”
“I was protecting you from this circus.”
Ray held up one broad hand.
“You were protecting your plan.”
Jeremy laughed once.
“What plan?
Look at him, Florence.
He arrives dressed like this and expects you to trust him?”
Ray did not move.
“Read the second page.”
Florence turned it over.
I saw my name at the bottom before she said a word.
“Mom, is this your signature?”
She handed me the document.
It was a request to withdraw $240,000 from the trust my mother had left Florence.
My stomach tightened.
“It looks like my signature, but I never signed this.”
Jeremy’s voice softened.
“You approved the wedding withdrawal months ago.”
“I approved forty thousand dollars for the wedding.
Not this.”
My husband stepped between Jeremy and the aisle.
“Why is the rest being transferred today?”
Jeremy straightened his jacket.
“It’s for the house Florence and I chose.”
“We never chose a house,” Florence said.
The guests had gone silent.
Even the officiant had lowered his book.
Lydia spoke again.
“Florence, check the receiving account.”
Florence ran her finger down the page.
“It only gives the last four digits.”
“Read them.”
“Eight-one-seven-four.”
Lydia made a broken sound.
“That was the account Jeremy used when he emptied my bakery savings.”
Jeremy reached for the phone.
“She is lying because she wants money.”
Ray blocked his hand.
“Then why did you offer me ten thousand dollars last night to keep this bag away from Florence?”
Florence turned to Jeremy.
“You tried to pay him?”
Jeremy looked past her toward the guests.
“He demanded money.
I was trying to make him disappear.”
“No,” Ray said.
“You were trying to buy one more hour.”
Florence pulled out the final page.
A transfer confirmation was clipped behind it.
Her lips parted.
“Mom, the money is scheduled to leave at four o’clock.”
I checked my watch.
It was 3:52.
Then Florence read the authorization line, and her voice almost vanished.
“The request wasn’t submitted by Jeremy.
It was submitted under my name.”
