Chapter 6 - The Fall of Diane
Diane Vance didn't know her son had been arrested. She was currently sitting in the lobby of a high-end boutique downtown, sipping espresso and waiting for her real estate agent to finalize the paperwork for a new luxury condo she was planning to purchase using the $450,000 Eric had laundered into her Belize account.
She was so engrossed in looking at brochures for Italian marble countertops that she didn't notice the two corporate lawyers and the state investigator approaching her table until they stood directly over her.
"Diane Vance?" the investigator asked, displaying his badge.
Diane looked up, blinking her heavily mascaraed eyes in confusion. "Yes? Can I help you? I'm in the middle of a private meeting."
"Your meeting is cancelled, ma'am," the investigator said. "We have an emergency court order signed by Judge Henderson freezing every bank account, domestic and international, associated with your name, including the entity DV Holdings registered in Belize."
Diane’s espresso cup shattered against the marble floor, dark liquid splashing over her expensive white shoes. "What? You can't do that! That’s my retirement money! My son gave that to me!"
"Your son stole that money from his business partners, Ms. Vance," the investigator replied coldly. "And because you knowingly allowed your name and identity to be used to establish shell accounts to hide those stolen assets, you are being named as a primary co-conspirator in a grand larceny investigation."
"No! Eric!" she screamed, rising from her chair, her face contorting into a mask of pure terror. "This is a lie! It’s that horrible girl, Maya! She’s doing this out of spite because she fell in the pool! She’s crazy!"
"Your son is currently in county lockup, ma'am," the investigator said, stepping aside as two uniformed officers moved in. "And you're joining him. Let's go."
As the affluent shoppers in the boutique stared and pulled out their phones to record the scene, Diane Vance—the woman who had claimed she would be homeless by the end of the month—was marched out into the blinding sunlight, her hands cuffed, her precious silk blouse stained with coffee.
The news reached me via a phone call from Ms. Vance, who sounded thoroughly delighted. "Every account is locked down, Maya. We’ve already initiated the recovery process to pull the funds back into the firm's accounts. And as per our agreement, the twenty-three thousand dollars Eric took from your personal account has been flagged as a direct theft and is being restored to you via an expedited court order tonight."
"Thank you, Ms. Vance," I said, looking over at the door as Martha rolled in a specialized bassinet.
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Inside the bassinet, sleeping peacefully under a warm blanket, was Lily. Her breathing tube had been removed. Her vitals were perfect. The doctors had officially cleared her to leave the NICU.
My daughter was out of danger. And the people who had tried to steal her future were sitting in a concrete cell.
