Chapter 4 - THE AUDIO FILES
The night before the wedding, Maya and I sat in my study, the glow of my laptop illuminating the dark room. We finally plugged in the silver USB drive.
Clara had hidden a voice-activated recorder in her own bedroom.
We clicked on an audio file dated two months prior. The crisp sound of Richard's voice filled the room, followed by Chloe's shrill laughter.
"How much longer is this going to take?" Chloe’s voice whined through the speakers. "You promised me she'd be out of the picture before summer."
"Relax," Richard’s voice replied, cold and calculating. "The dosage is low so the autopsy won't catch it. It mimics heart failure. Once she croaks, the trust fund opens, I dump the brats with her dad, and we take the yacht to Monaco."
I felt physically sick. Maya squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear finally escaping down her cheek.
"He killed her," Maya whispered.
May you like
"He did," I agreed, my voice made of steel. "And tomorrow, the whole world will hear this."
I didn't just call Clara's lawyer that night. I called the Chief of Police—an old poker buddy of mine. I told him to have three unmarked cruisers waiting outside the Charleston Country Club by 4:00 PM on Saturday.
