Chapter 9 - AUDREY’S WEDDING GIFT
Audrey Cross lasted forty-eight hours before requesting immunity.
She did not receive it.
But prosecutors agreed to consider cooperation.
Her bridal dream had lasted less than three days.
She entered the interview wearing jeans and a gray sweater.
No wedding ring.
Detective Ortiz asked.
“Did you know Preston intended to plant his phone on Sophie?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Margaret would plant your bracelet?”
“Yes.”
“Why give your own bracelet?”
“My father said it had to look serious.”
“Why did you agree?”
Audrey stared at the table.
“Because the merger had to close.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Audrey’s eyes filled.
“My father was going to lose everything.”
Cross Meridian carried enormous debt too.
Victor had promised lenders access to Whitmore assets.
Without the merger, his own company could face insolvency.
Audrey’s marriage to Preston was partly genuine.
But financially convenient.
Two collapsing families were trying to save themselves by combining balance sheets.
My shares prevented it.
Sophie became the easiest pressure point.
Then Ortiz asked.
“Who suggested using the child?”
Audrey whispered.
“Margaret.”
I closed my eyes in the observation room.
My mother.
Not Preston.
Margaret.
Audrey continued.
“Preston wanted to accuse Evelyn directly.”
“Margaret said nobody would believe Evelyn was stealing from the wedding.”
“But everyone would believe she failed to control Sophie.”
That sentence broke something in me.
My mother understood exactly how our family saw me.
She weaponized it.
The divorced daughter.
The difficult daughter.
The daughter who “raised Sophie alone.”
If Sophie looked bad, everyone would blame me automatically.
They did.
Even before evidence.
Audrey admitted she handed Preston the suspension petition before the accusation.
She admitted the public-relations statement existed.
She admitted Victor promised Margaret a board position after the merger.
Then she gave police something Preston did not know she kept.
A voice recording.
Preston after the rehearsal dinner.
“If Evelyn cries, let her.”
“If Sophie cries, better.”
“People believe frightened children are guilty.”
I stopped the recording.
Could not breathe.
The boy my parents protected for thirty years had grown into a man willing to use an eight-year-old child’s fear as evidence.
Then Audrey whispered one final thing.
“The board wasn’t supposed to hit Sophie.”
“Obviously.”
Ortiz said.
“No.”
Audrey shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
“Preston brought it near the door before the reception.”
“He told security to leave the stand loose.”
My blood went cold.
He had prepared the wooden board.
Not necessarily to strike her.
But to create a threatening confrontation.
The violence had not been completely spontaneous.
May you like
Preston had expected intimidation.
The only surprise was how far he went.
