Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO WASN'T DYING
The police took my statement.
They didn't immediately issue an arrest warrant.
There wasn't enough evidence to prove Veronica had threatened me.
The note could have meant almost anything.
But Melissa told me something important.
“Don't underestimate her.”
“I won't.”
“She has access to information.”
“About Christopher?”
“About you.”
That scared me more than I wanted to admit.
I spent the next week staying with Rachel.
Christopher stayed elsewhere.
We were separated.
I didn't know whether our marriage would survive.
At that point, I didn't care.
I wanted the truth.
Then Rachel called me at midnight.
“Hannah.”
“What happened?”
“I found something.”
“What?”
“A medical record.”
“For Veronica?”
“Yes.”
My heart raced.
“Where?”
“Her insurance database.”
“Can you see the diagnosis?”
Rachel hesitated.
“There is no cancer diagnosis.”
I closed my eyes.
“I knew it.”
“But there is something.”
“What?”
“Five years ago, Veronica was treated for a completely different condition.”
“Which was?”
“Fraud.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Not medical fraud.”
Rachel lowered her voice.
“She was investigated for identity theft and insurance fraud.”
I sat up.
“Did she go to prison?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“She disappeared before the case was completed.”
I felt cold.
“Where did she go?”
Rachel sent me an address.
I recognized the city.
Las Vegas.
The next morning, Melissa, Rachel, and I drove there.
We found an old apartment building.
The manager remembered Veronica.
“She used another name.”
“What name?”
He searched his records.
“Vanessa Reed.”
I looked at Rachel.
“What did she do here?”
“Worked for a company.”
“What company?”
He gave us an address.
We drove there.
The business was closed.
But the landlord still had old records.
The company had specialized in financial recovery.
And one of its former employees had been Veronica.
Melissa looked through the files.
“She worked with people in financial trouble.”
“Like Christopher.”
“Yes.”
“That's not a coincidence.”
“No.”
We kept digging.
Then we found something.
A photograph.
Veronica standing beside a man.
The man was Daniel.
Christopher's brother.
They were together six years earlier.
Before Christopher and I married.
Rachel stared at the photograph.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because Christopher said he hadn't spoken to Veronica in years.”
Melissa shook her head.
“He lied.”
We found another photograph.
Daniel.
Veronica.
And a third person.
A woman I didn't recognize.
Melissa zoomed in.
Then stopped.
“That woman looks familiar.”
“From where?”
“County records.”
She searched.
Then looked at me.
“She was a notary.”
“For what?”
Melissa didn't answer.
She pulled up another document.
The notary had witnessed my signature on the mortgage transfer.
I stared.
Everything suddenly connected.
Veronica had not simply come back because she was sick.
She had been part of the plan from the beginning.
She had access to Daniel.
Daniel had access to the mortgage.
Christopher had access to me.
And I had unknowingly become the center of a financial scheme.
But there was still one question.
Why fake cancer?
Melissa answered it.
“Because a dying ex-wife creates sympathy.”
Rachel nodded.
“And makes Hannah look cruel if she objects.”
“Exactly.”
I thought about every time I had felt guilty.
Every time I had questioned whether I was being selfish.
Every time I had considered asking Veronica to leave.
They had designed the situation so I would feel ashamed for protecting my own home.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A woman's voice whispered:
“Hannah.”
I knew immediately.
Veronica.
“Where are you?”
“You shouldn't have looked.”
“Who are you working with?”
Silence.
“Veronica.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
“You think Christopher is the worst person involved.”
My heart stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“He isn't.”
“Who is?”
“You'll find out.”
“Tell me.”
She laughed softly.
Then said:
“Ask your husband why your life insurance policy was increased three days before he asked me to move into your house.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Three days.
Three days before the fake illness began.
That meant the plan had been active before Veronica arrived.
I called Christopher.
He answered.
“Hannah?”
“Who increased my life insurance policy?”
Silence.
“Christopher.”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear.”
“Three days before Veronica came here.”
He breathed heavily.
“Hannah, I didn't do that.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
I believed his fear.
But fear wasn't innocence.
That night, Melissa found another document.
A request to increase the policy.
The signature wasn't Christopher's.
It wasn't mine.
It belonged to Daniel.
But Daniel couldn't increase the policy without authorization.
Unless someone had given him power of attorney.
We searched.
And found it.
A document Christopher had signed two months earlier.
Power of attorney.
For financial matters.
Given to Daniel.
I stared at it.
“Why would he do that?”
Melissa looked at me.
“Because he was desperate.”
Rachel said quietly:
“Or because someone convinced him he had no other choice.”
We returned to San Diego.
Christopher was waiting outside Rachel's house.
He looked exhausted.
“I know who Veronica is.”
I stared.
“She isn't just my ex-wife.”
“What is she?”
He swallowed.
“She was working with Daniel before we ever met.”
“Why?”
“She wanted money.”
“How much?”
“Everything.”
“Everything what?”
He looked at me.
“Your house.”
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“She doesn't want the house anymore.”
“What does she want?”
May you like
Christopher looked toward the street.
“She wants the insurance money.”
