Chapter 5 - THE MAN IN THE GRAY COAT
Peter Lang was arrested outside a downtown office building.
The police found a second phone in his car, along with copies of my medical records and several documents bearing my signature.
Some were legitimate.
Others were not.
A forensic examiner determined that one signature had been copied from an old insurance form and placed onto a draft power-of-attorney document.
The document had never been filed.
But it showed what Vanessa and Peter intended.
Detective Morgan came to my house with an update.
“Peter says Vanessa approached him six months ago,” she explained. “He claims they planned to marry after your financial situation was settled.”
I stared at her.
“Marry me, then take control of my money?”
“That's what he says.”
“Why would he help her?”
“According to his statement, he believed she would receive a large portion of your estate if you died or became legally incapacitated.”
I felt sick.
“Did she tell him to push me?”
“Peter says he wasn't present at the house that afternoon.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Morgan looked at her notes.
“He says Vanessa told him she would create an accident that made you appear unable to care for yourself. He claims he didn't know she intended to use the stairs.”
I laughed without humor.
“So he knew something was planned.”
“Yes.”
“And he watched her do it?”
“He was outside the property. The security footage places his car on the street.”
I looked at the detective.
“Why didn't he call for help?”
Morgan did not answer.
She didn't need to.
Peter had been willing to let me fall.
The detective continued.
“There's another issue. We found evidence that someone accessed your late wife's trust records from a computer at Vanessa's former company.”
“Can you prove she did it?”
“Not yet.”
I thought about the study.
The locked cabinet.
The photographs Rosa had seen her taking.
“Emily's original will is still there.”
“Has anyone moved it?”
“I don't know.”
Morgan asked an officer to accompany Thomas to the house and secure the documents.
Before she left, she showed me a photograph.
It was a picture of Peter standing beside a woman outside a bank.
The woman wore sunglasses and a pale scarf.
I recognized her.
“That's Vanessa.”
“Yes.”
“When was this taken?”
“Six months ago.”
The date was two months before Vanessa first told me she loved me.
I looked at the photograph again.
The woman beside Peter was laughing.
May you like
She did not look like someone who had accidentally become involved in a complicated romance.
She looked like someone who knew exactly what she was doing.
