Chapter 3 - The Web of Lies
Three days after the funeral, the federal holding facility in downtown St. Louis was quiet.
Inside a soundproof interrogation room, Daniel Voss sat with his lead defense attorney, Arthur Pendelton—a high-priced criminal defense lawyer known for getting corporate predators off on technicalities. Pendelton laid out a series of financial ledgers across the steel table.
"They have the Cayman accounts locked down, Daniel," Pendelton said in a hushed whisper, tapping a gold pen against a page of bank codes. "And the tox report came back this morning. The state coroner amended the cause of death from natural abruption to acute toxicity resulting in organ failure. They have you tied directly to the chemical order placed through a pharmaceutical shell company in Panama."
Daniel leaned across the table, his eyes sunken and dark from lack of sleep. "I don't care about the Panamanian company! What about Celeste? Is she talking?"
"Celeste turned state's evidence two hours ago," Pendelton replied grimly. "In exchange for immunity on the wire fraud charges, she handed over sixteen months of text messages, voice notes, and wire transfers showing you promised her Maya’s estate once the 'inheritance issue' was resolved."
Daniel slammed his fist onto the metal table, the sound echoing harshly off the concrete walls. "That ungrateful little viper! I gave her everything!"
"Listen to me!" Pendelton hissed, leaning in close. "Your only way out of a lethal injection is to shift the narrative. We need to prove that Maya was complicit in the financial restructuring. If we can prove she knew about the offshore accounts, we can argue the chemical dosage was self-administered—a tragic suicide driven by post-partum depression and financial anxiety."
Daniel paused, his wild eyes slowing down, a cold, calculating smile slowly spreading across his face. "Self-administered... yes. She was depressed. She was taking medication. Her family knew she was fragile."
"Can we prove it?" Pendelton asked.
"Maya signed a power of attorney three months ago," Daniel whispered, leaning closer. "It’s sitting in a safety deposit box at the Mercantile Bank on Fifth Street. I had her sign it during her third trimester when she was on bed rest. If that document hits the press, it shows she handed control of her assets to me voluntarily. It destroys the prosecution's motive for murder."
What neither man realized was that the small smoke detector overhead contained an authorized federal audio intercept, monitored in real time two floors above by Lena and Special Agent Marcus Vance.
In the observation room, Lena took off her headphones and set them gently on the desk. Her face was pale, but her hands were steady.
"He’s going to desecrate her memory," Lena said, her voice dropping into a deadly whisper. "He’s going to tell the world my sister killed herself and her baby."
"He can try," Vance said, tapping a touchscreen console. "Mercantile Bank on Fifth Street. We have a search warrant for that safety deposit box, but we need to act before Pendelton’s runners get there. If that power of attorney exists, we need to know if it’s real or forged."
May you like
Lena stood up, pulling her leather jacket back on and securing her service weapon in her shoulder holster.
"It’s forged," Lena said with absolute certainty. "Maya would never have signed away her children's future to that monster. And I’m going to prove it."
