Chapter 4 - The Blue Binder
“What are you doing with that?”
Evelyn’s voice was quieter than usual.
Damien rested his hand on the forged trust document.
“My estate plan.”
“You never touch that binder.”
“Apparently someone does.”
Claire watched from the opposite side of the desk.
Evelyn stepped inside.
“I thought the police told us not to disturb anything.”
“My office isn’t part of the sealed scene.”
Damien lifted the document.
“Do you know what this is?”
Evelyn stared at it.
“No.”
He waited.
Claire did too.
Evelyn’s expression shifted from surprise to irritation.
“Why are you interrogating me?”
“I asked a question.”
“And I answered.”
Damien held up the signature page.
“This says I signed away succession control of billions of dollars while I was in Tokyo.”
Evelyn swallowed.
“Then it’s obviously fake.”
“Yes.”
“So call your lawyer.”
“I will.”
She folded her arms.
“What does this have to do with me?”
Damien studied her.
“Maybe nothing.”
A tiny breath escaped her.
He saw that too.
“You should both go downstairs,” Claire said. “Detective Ruiz is returning.”
Evelyn looked at her sharply.
“Why?”
“Because she has more questions.”
“For me?”
“For everyone.”
Evelyn turned toward Damien.
“Do you trust me?”
It was the cruelest question she could have asked.
Damien thought of eleven years of breakfasts, flights, arguments, birthdays and nights when she had slept with one hand against his chest.
“I want to.”
Her eyes glistened.
For a moment, he almost hated himself.
Then he remembered Marcus entering through the service gate.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I want the truth more.”
She stepped back.
“Fine.”
She left.
When the door closed, Damien sat down heavily.
Claire said nothing.
“I almost believed her.”
“That’s why betrayal works.”
He looked at her.
“You sound like you’ve been through this.”
“I’ve protected wealthy families for twenty years.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
Damien understood the boundary and left it there.
An hour later, Detective Ruiz arrived with a financial-crimes investigator named Evan Shaw.
They examined copies of the forged trust amendment.
Shaw turned several pages slowly.
“This isn’t amateur work.”
“My signature was copied.”
“Probably.”
“The notary?”
“We’ll verify.”
“My attorney never prepared this.”
“Who is your attorney?”
“Martin Feld at Feld, Abrams & Cole.”
Shaw wrote the name.
“Any reason your wife would believe she inherits control of Crowe Meridian?”
Damien glanced at Evelyn.
She sat at the far end of the library.
“No.”
Evelyn spoke.
“Because I don’t.”
Shaw looked at her.
“You know that?”
“Of course.”
“How?”
“We’ve discussed his estate.”
Damien frowned.
They had discussed broad terms.
Never voting-control mechanics.
Shaw noticed.
“What exactly did you understand?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“That I would be taken care of.”
“That’s different.”
She leaned forward.
“Detective, am I a suspect?”
Ruiz answered.
“We’re determining what happened.”
“Then determine it.”
“We’re trying.”
“I nearly watched my husband die.”
Damien’s jaw tightened.
Nearly watched.
Again.
Always phrased as something that happened to her.
Ruiz asked where she had been immediately before the snakes appeared.
“On the terrace.”
“Doing what?”
“Reading.”
“What were you reading?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You issued a guest credential at 1:52.”
Evelyn became still.
“For whom?”
Ruiz turned her tablet around.
Marcus Vale’s name filled the screen.
Damien watched his wife.
Evelyn looked at the tablet for several seconds.
Then she laughed softly.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Marcus wasn’t here.”
“The system says otherwise.”
“The system also says Damien disabled his own cameras.”
Ruiz’s expression did not change.
“Did you issue the credential?”
“No.”
“Did anyone have your phone?”
“No.”
“Have you had a romantic relationship with Marcus Vale?”
Damien felt the room contract.
Evelyn looked at him.
Then at Ruiz.
“No.”
The answer was absolute.
Shaw wrote something.
Ruiz stood.
“We’ll be in touch.”
After they left, Damien remained in the library.
Evelyn followed.
“How could you let her ask me that?”
“How could I let a detective investigate attempted murder?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, Evelyn. I don’t know what anything means anymore.”
She approached.
“Marcus is a friend.”
“A friend you haven’t spoken to since last week.”
“Yes.”
“A friend who entered our property today under your credentials.”
“I didn’t let him in.”
“A friend who somehow appears around the same time someone put five venomous snakes in my pool.”
Her face tightened.
“You think I tried to kill you.”
Damien looked at her.
“I think I almost died.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.”
She slapped her palm against the table.
“I married you before this house existed.”
“You married me when I was already worth hundreds of millions.”
Pain flashed across her face.
Damien regretted the sentence instantly.
But he did not take it back.
Evelyn whispered, “So that’s what I am now?”
“I don’t know what you are.”
She stared at him.
Then walked away.
Upstairs, Evelyn locked the bedroom door behind her.
Her hands were shaking.
She opened the encrypted messaging application Marcus had insisted they use.
There were no new messages.
She typed:
He found the trust restatement.
Three dots appeared.
Then vanished.
Finally Marcus replied.
Then stop acting frightened.
Evelyn typed:
The police know you were here.
This time his response came immediately.
They know a credential was used. They don’t know why.
She stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
Destroy the blue copy tonight.
Evelyn looked toward the door.
For the first time since the plan began, she wondered whether Marcus was afraid too.
Then another message appeared.
And Evelyn—if this falls apart, remember whose idea the snakes were.
Her blood went cold.
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Because that was a lie.
And both of them knew it.
