Chapter 9 - The Bait
I didn't respond to Natalie's video. I didn't defend myself online.
Instead, I sent a single text message to my father.
I know about the casino debts. We need to talk.
Less than a minute later, my phone rang.
"What do you know?" he hissed, abandoning all pretenses.
"I know Natalie funneled twenty thousand dollars of my money into your LLC to pay off Atlantic City," I said calmly. "I also know you still owe eighty thousand."
Silence. Heavy, panicked silence.
"Where are you getting this information?" he demanded.
"I have a forensic accountant. I have the bank trails."
"Ellie, listen to me," his voice suddenly changed, becoming desperate and pleading. "Those people... they're not messing around. They threatened your mother."
"So you stole from me?"
"We were going to pay you back!"
"Liar," I snapped.
"Please, Eleanor. Don't go to the police. If you expose this, I'll go to jail. Or worse."
I let him sweat for a few seconds.
"I'll meet you and Mom at the old diner on 4th Street," I said. "Bring Natalie. We'll settle this quietly."
"Okay. Okay, we'll be there."
I hung up and looked at my reflection in the mirror.
May you like
I didn't recognize the woman looking back at me. The soft, eager-to-please Eleanor was dead.
She died at Table 19.
