Chapter 4 - The Jasmine Scented Trap
Clara sat in her car parked outside the office building of Vance & Associates, the accounting firm where Marcus worked. Marcus walked out and got into her passenger seat, holding a secure encrypted tablet.
"Garrett and Vanessa are panicking," Marcus said, showing her the live logs. "They just initiated a transfer of three million dollars from the firm’s client escrow accounts into the Cayman account. They’re trying to cover the personal bond before the bank realizes they’ve lost the contract."
"Is that illegal?" Clara asked.
"Extremely," Marcus replied. "It’s wire fraud and grand larceny. They are stealing directly from their clients to save Garrett's personal assets. And because Vanessa authorized it, she’s just as guilty."
"Perfect," Clara said. "Now, we let the bank know."
"I’ve already leaked the audit discrepancies to the bank’s risk assessment department," Marcus said. "They are going to freeze Garrett’s assets within the hour. But there’s one more thing. Vanessa has a flight booked to Switzerland for tomorrow night. She bought two tickets."
"She’s planning to run with him," Clara said, her eyes narrowing. "He’s going to leave me here to take the fall for his debts."
"They both think they are escaping," Marcus said. "They don't know the Cayman account is already under watch by the federal authorities. I flagged it for money laundering yesterday."
Clara stared out the windshield, the memory of her son’s final moments rushing back to her. “Is Daddy coming?”
"No," Clara said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "They aren't running anywhere. I want Garrett to feel the walls closing in on him. I want him to know exactly who built the cage."
That evening, Clara prepared an elaborate dinner. She lit candles, opened a bottle of vintage wine, and waited. Garrett came home late, looking haggard, his tie completely undone, his eyes bloodshot.
"Clara," he said, his voice shaking. "We... we have a situation. The bank froze our personal accounts. They say there’s an investigation into the firm’s finances."
"Oh, Garrett, how terrible," Clara said, pouring him a glass of wine. "But don't worry. I have some news that might cheer you up."
Garrett took the glass, gulping down the wine. "What news?"
Clara smiled, a slow, beautiful, terrifying smile. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, high-definition recording device. She laid it on the table and pressed play.
“Garrett, baby, the transfer is complete,” Vanessa’s voice echoed clearly from the speaker. “The three million is in the Cayman account. Once we land in Geneva, we’ll be safe. Let Clara deal with the police and the creditors. She’s too stupid to realize what we’ve done anyway.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Garrett’s voice replied on the recording. “I’ve wanted to leave her for years. This is our fresh start. I’ll meet you at the airport at eight.”
The silence that followed the recording was deafening.
Garrett stared at the device, his face turning an ash-gray. He looked up at Clara, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
"Clara... I... that's not... we were just... it was a joke," he stammered, backing away from the table.
"A joke?" Clara asked, her voice incredibly soft. "Eighteen times, Garrett. I called you eighteen times while our son was dying. He whispered your name with his last breath. And you were in Room 1402, planning your escape with Vanessa."
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"Clara, please!" Garrett fell to his knees, grabbing her skirt. "I made a mistake! I love you! I was stressed, I wasn't thinking straight! Please, we can fix this!"
Clara looked down at him, her expression completely detached. "You can’t fix a dead child, Garrett. And you certainly can’t fix what’s about to happen to you."
