Chapter 5 - The Ultimate Betrayal
Michael didn't go back to the house.
He went straight to the precinct.
Detective Ramirez sat across the metal table, reviewing the bank statements.
He looked at the half-burnt letters in the plastic evidence bag.
"This is a massive case of wire fraud, Sergeant."
Ramirez looked up.
"Combined with unlawful imprisonment and domestic battery against your wife."
Michael leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.
"She texted me an hour ago claiming my wife attacked her."
Michael showed the detective the text message.
Ramirez shook his head.
"Your wife has been at the motel all morning, correct?"
"Yes. The motel has security cameras proving she hasn't left the room."
"Perfect," Ramirez said, standing up.
"Let's go pay your mother a visit."
Meanwhile, back at the Carter house, Margaret was frantic.
She had packed two large suitcases.
She had the twenty thousand dollars in cash stuffed into a designer handbag.
She was pacing the living room, waiting for Michael to rush in.
She had purposely cut her own arm with a kitchen knife.
She planned to cry.
To play the victim.
To convince Michael that Emily was unstable and violent.
It was her only way out.
The sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway made her stop.
She quickly rubbed her eyes to force tears.
She clutched her bleeding arm.
The front door swung open.
"Michael, thank god!" Margaret wailed, running toward the foyer.
But she stopped dead in her tracks.
Michael wasn't alone.
Two uniformed police officers and Detective Ramirez stepped into the house.
Margaret's fake tears instantly vanished.
Her face drained of color.
"What... what is this?" she stammered.
"Margaret Carter," Ramirez said, stepping forward.
"You are under arrest for grand theft, forgery, and wire fraud."
Margaret backed up, her eyes darting toward her suitcases.
"This is a mistake! My daughter-in-law attacked me! Look at my arm!"
She held up the superficial cut.
Michael finally stepped out from behind the officers.
He looked at her with pure, unadulterated pity.
"Emily has been on camera at a motel across town for the last twelve hours."
Margaret's mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"You cut yourself, Mom."
Michael's voice was devoid of any emotion.
"You stole my money. You hid my letters. You tortured my wife."
The officers moved in.
They grabbed Margaret's arms and clicked the handcuffs around her wrists.
"Michael! You can't do this to me!" she screamed.
"I'm your mother! I raised you!"
"You lost the right to call yourself my mother fourteen months ago."
Michael turned his back on her.
He didn't flinch as she kicked and screamed while being dragged out the door.
He walked into the living room.
He looked around the house he had grown up in.
It didn't feel like home anymore.
It felt like a crime scene.
But the nightmare was finally over.
He picked up the designer bag full of cash she had tried to steal.
He handed it to the detective.
May you like
"Evidence," Michael said simply.
Then he walked out the front door, leaving the past behind him forever.
