Chapter 3 - The Bloomington Trap
The Bloomington apartment complex was called The Grandview Heights. It was an exclusive luxury high-rise catering to young executives and affluent students, featuring panoramic windows and a private concierge.
On Wednesday afternoon, wearing a dark trench coat, large sunglasses, and a wig I had purchased from a theatrical supply store across town, I sat in a rented sedan outside the main entrance.
Grace sat in the passenger seat, a telephoto digital camera resting on her lap.
"Are you sure you're ready for this, Helena?" Grace asked softly, her hand coming to rest over mine. "Seeing it in person is different than seeing it on a spreadsheet."
"I stopped feeling things on Sunday, Grace," I replied, my voice flat. "Right now, this is just an asset liquidation exercise."
At 2:15 p.m., Bennett’s SUV pulled into the circular driveway. He didn't look like a man who had just left a high-stakes zoning board meeting. He was dressed in casual cashmere, his face relaxed and smiling. He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and helped my mother, Helen, out of the car. She was carrying a massive stuffed bear with a blue ribbon around its neck.
Moments later, a medical transport van pulled up. Naomi stepped out, holding the newborn wrapped in the very embroidered blanket I had left in the hospital hallway after overhearing their betrayal.
Bennett didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, wrapped his arm around Naomi’s waist, and kissed her deeply right there on the pavement, under the bright afternoon sun. My mother stood beside them, beaming with maternal pride, adjusting the baby’s sunshade as if she were witnessing a sacred family union.
The shutter of Grace’s camera clicked rapidly beside me, a sharp, mechanical rhythm recording every angle of their treason.
"Got it," Grace muttered, her jaw tight with professional disgust. "Public display of affection, cohabitation validation, and your mother acting as the facilitator. This completely obliterates any claim he could make about 'temporary alienation of affection' or a 'one-time mistake.'"
I watched them walk through the glass doors of the lobby, the concierge bowing slightly as Bennett flashed his resident access card—the card paid for by my corporate bonuses.
"Now what?" I asked, my eyes fixed on the empty glass doors.
"Now we execute the structural freeze," Grace said, pulling out her laptop. "Bennett’s firm is currently bidding on the riverfront development project. The city council requires an absolute, unblemished financial disclosure from every senior partner involved in the bidding process. If a partner is involved in an active felony forgery and identity theft investigation, the firm’s bid is automatically disqualified."
"He loves that project more than life itself," I murmured. "He’s been working on it for two years."
"He used your name to secure the secondary line of credit that his firm used to fund their initial deposit for that project, Helena," Grace revealed, turning the laptop screen toward me. "Look here. He co-signed the corporate bond using the fraudulent power of attorney he stamped with Arthur Pendelton’s fake seal."
I looked at the digital signature. He hadn't just used me to buy Naomi an apartment. He had used my credit rating and my corporate status as a financial executive to backstop his entire professional career. If he went down, his firm would pull his partnership shares to protect their own reputation, leaving him completely bankrupt.
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"When do we file?" I asked.
Grace smiled, a sharp, predatory expression. "Tomorrow morning is the preliminary city council review. We don't file with the court first, Helena. We file a formal 'Notice of Asset Irregularity' with his firm’s compliance board at 8:00 a.m. Let’s see how his zoning board meeting goes when his own CEO calls him into the boardroom."
