Chapter 15 The Funeral

Andy expressed a bit of surprise that I hadn't noticed such a large discrepancy. I understood his question - after all, how can you not notice $6 millions dollars - but it still irritated me.

"I had people that I trusted around me who handled my money for me. I never considered that my husband would betray me like that, nor did the people handling my money." I shrugged, feeling like an entitled brat over this next part, even though I knew at least Andy was privy to the information.

"And to be perfectly honest, I had enough money that I didn't miss it. My father had set up an initial trust of $5 million when I was born. When he died, his life insurance went into that account as well, since my mother had the proceeds from my dad's business that she sold." I paused, deciding not to mention her trust fund from her family. There was no sense inviting scrutiny that could lead to the Flanagan's.

"There was a settlement from the wrongful-death lawsuit against the trucking company involved in our accident - that went into the trust too. My dad had been an only child and when my grandparents both died during my high school years, I was the sole beneficiary of their estate. That was also added to the trust, and with all the earnings from investments and interest over the years, it had grown to just over $71 million by the time it was released to me two years ago. So, as crass and insensitive and ridiculous as it is to say, I simply didn't notice a million dollars missing here and there."

No one had much to say about the money after that. I don't think they knew what to say actually. James announced that he would no longer be involved in the investigation, since David's death had been officially ruled an accidental drowning. He wished me well and thanked me for my help with the investigation.

"I am truly sorry that this has happened to you. Please accept my sincere apologies for my initial line of questioning regarding David's death. I am sorry to have made this experience even more difficult for you." The very formal, very professional detective unbent enough to gently pat my shoulder as he left the room.

Mike, who was much less formal in his approach, gave me a smile and a quick hug. "We are still working with the FBI to turn the case over to them. My boss is pushing for us to make the initial arrest, then turn the case over to them before trial."

At my questioning look, he explained, "The Feds will want time to do an in-depth review of our investigation and the evidence we've collected before making an arrest. My boss is making the case that a quick arrest is necessary to prevent further attempts to access your accounts and those at the architectural firm, without tipping them off. We don't want them to have time to destroy evidence or run. Without David's testimony to corroborate the videos and texts, it is theoretically possible that they could be ruled inadmissible. Depends on how good their lawyer is."

He glanced at Chris with a grin as he made that little dig, and Chris glared at him for a second before giving him a tight smile in return and nodding his agreement. "That would leave us with the paper trail of falsified documents and bank transfers, plus the fake invoices, which should be enough, but we want to nail them with as many counts as possible."

I nodded, relieved that things might be coming to a head sooner rather than later.I thanked Mike, who said he hoped to have an update in the morning.I turned to thank Andy and his team, who acknowledged my appreciation with a simple wave of hands as they left the room. Mike escorted us back to the lobby, and I was relieved to get out of the building. My neck was stiff with tension, and a headache was brewing behind my eyes again. I was going to have to buy another bottle of Tylenol at this rate.

Chris suggested stopping off at our favorite Italian place for dinner before heading home."Sounds good to me, as long as I can get a glass or three of wine," I said.

Sherry just groaned. "My hangover from last night's margaritas just went away an hour ago. I think I'll stick to iced tea," she said.

"Good," Chris replied."You can be the designated driver then, because I need a couple of beers after all that."

By the time we made it back to their house almost three hours later, I was decidedly tipsy and didn't give one single fuck about anything.Sherry convinced us to take some more Tylenol and drink a bottle of water to ward off another hangover tomorrow morning, then I stumbled up the stairs.

I was followed by a drunken Chris, who had decided to serenade us with the theme song to the TV show "Cops" on the ride home.Sherry elected to remain downstairs for a while, giving her husband time to fall asleep - or pass out. I closed the door to their guest suite with the words "Bad boys, bad boys, what'cha gonna do, what'cha gonna do when they come for you..." stuck in my head.

My dreams that night were filled with Scott and Vanessa in prison, in cells that were side-by-side for some reason, with a ghostly David floating between the two. At one point, I went from watching them from outside the bars, to being in a cell with them.James and Mike were the jailers, and James - stoic, stuffy, stick-up-his-ass James, was singing the stupid "Cops" theme song. Chris was able to convince Mike to let me out, and Sherry greeted me with a party noise maker and a handful of confetti.

I woke the next morning and laughed softly as I remembered bits and pieces of my dream.Thanks to Sherry's help the night before, I didn't feel too bad, and by the time I'd showered and gotten dressed for the day, I was feeling just fine.

Sherry was already downstairs when I walked into the kitchen, and she said Chris was still dead to the world up there.

"At least he's not still singing," I told her, then explained about my strange dream.We both laughed, and she asked about my plans for the day.

"I need to go to my house to get something to wear for the funeral tomorrow. I need to figure out what to do so I can get out of your hair," I said.

"Don't even think about it.I know you can't stay here forever, but there is absolutely no rush to go any time soon," she declared."Are you planning to keep the house?"

"Hell, no," I said emphatically. "I can barely stand to set foot in there after all of this. After this weekend, I'll rent something short-term while I look for a new place. I should call my realtor to see if she knows of any decent short-term listings.I need to talk to her about selling the house, anyway."

The rest of the day was fairly quiet.My call to the realtor hadn't taken long. She had heard about David's death on the news and didn't seem surprised that I wanted to sell.

"I understand completely.It must be so hard to imagine living there after his death.I know of a few condos that would be perfect for you in the interim.One is in the same Meridian Street building where your investment property is.I'll send over the listings, and you just let me know if any of them appeal to you and I'll get it secured for you.We can meet next week if you're up to it, to get the house listed."

Within thirty minutes, my email pinged with her list of available rentals.I selected one - not in the same building that Vanessa was in - and instructed her to lease it on my behalf for the next three months.That should give me plenty of time to decide on a new house.

Sherry went with me to collect a suitable outfit for the funeral tomorrow.Not red, as she had suggested, but a simple navy-blue dress with a pair of nude pumps.We were in and out of my house in ten minutes, and I relaxed in a long hot bubble bath when we got back to her house.

Chris grilled some burgers for us for dinner, and as we finished eating, I got a call from Mike.

"The Feds have tentatively agreed to let us maintain jurisdiction for the time being.The agreement should be formalized in the morning, and then we will be able to get a judge to issue the arrest warrants.What time is the funeral service?"

"The visitation starts at 1:00 pm, and the funeral begins at 3:00 pm," I said. "Why?"

"Well, depending on the timing of things, we may end up taking them into custody at the funeral home.I don't want to take a chance that they pull a runner after the service. Do you have a problem with that?"

"You mean, do I care if you interrupt my bastard of a husband's funeral to arrest his sleazy brother and skanky mistress, in front of God and everybody?Why, no, I don't have a problem with that at all."The sincerity of my statement was clear, despite my sarcasm."Be my guest, Detective."

He chuckled."Well, we just might do that then.I'll call you in the morning.Have a good night, Lila."

The next day, I took Chris's suggestion about the visitation, and he called Scott to let him know that I was simply too distraught to attend that part of the service, and that Scott and their Aunt Jenny would need to represent the family.He assured him that I would be there for the funeral itself, and Scott agreed to handle things until I got there.Chris called the funeral director and gave him the same story.

Mike called shortly after 10:00 am with the news that the FBI had formally agreed to hold off on taking over jurisdiction. He confirmed that he would be at the funeral home for the service, with a couple of uniformed police officers outside in case they tried to slip out early.

"I'll just be blending in with the crowd. They've never met me, so I'll say I'm an old friend of your family's if they ask."

Sherry tried to get me to eat lunch before we left the house, but I couldn't force down more than a couple of bites.I just wanted to get this over with.

I was a bundle of nerves by the time we reached the funeral home about ten minutes before the funeral was scheduled to start. Scott spotted me and crossed the room to greet me.The look on his face could almost be mistaken for sympathy if I hadn't seen those disgusting videos for myself.Chris interrupted us almost immediately, drawing me away under the guise of needing to speak with the funeral director.

"Thank you," I murmured to him as we walked away.

"No problem, honey.You know I've got your back. Did you notice that James is here with Mike?" he asked quietly, nodding to a back corner of the room.I hadn't noticed either of them there, but as I looked over, Mike gave me a small smile and James gave me a little tilt of his head in acknowledgement.

The funeral director called everyone's attention to the start of the service, and I spent the next twenty minutes listening to him speak about how precious the gift of life was, how every moment should be celebrated, and how every memory should be cherished.He had been so kind and compassionate in helping me with the arrangements. The poor man had no idea of the shitshow that was about to take place.

I sat stoically, gritting my teeth as I listened to Scott give a heartfelt eulogy for my husband, followed by Vanessa, who sang a tearful rendition of Amazing Grace. She could barely get the words out, her voice breaking as she tried to hold in her sobs.

I caught the eye of the funeral director as he started wrapping up the service, indicating that I wanted to speak. He nodded, and I stepped forward from my seat in the front row. Taking my spot behind the podium, I looked out over the sea of faces, not stopping on any one face in particular until my gaze landed on Scott, who was handing a tissue to a still-sobbing Vanessa as she sat next to him at the end of the front row.

"I would like to take a moment to acknowledge Scott and Vanessa for everything they've done." Vanessa looked up at me with a tearful smile, and Scott nodded his head slightly.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a few seconds, needing to center myself for this next part. When I opened my eyes, I kept my gaze steady on the two of them.

"Scott spoke lovingly of David's generosity, but he didn't make mention of just exactly how very generous David was. In fact, I'm sure you'll be surprised to learn that David actually gave Scott over three million dollars in the past two years. The fact Scott was blackmailing David, and that the money was embezzled from my investment portfolio as well as the architectural firm is worth mentioning though, I think, don't you?" I said with a smile and nodded, as if expecting my stunned audience to agree with me. Scott sat frozen, eyes widening in horror as my words sank in.

"And Vanessa, the way your voice broke when you got to the line 'and saved a wretch like me', well, it was very touching. Unfortunately, there's simply no saving a wretch like you, honey." I ignored the shocked gasps and agitated whispers as I continued. "For those who may be wondering why poor Vanessa is so very devastated today, I suspect it's because she's been sleeping with my husband for the past five months. Why, they became so close that she even slept in my bed frequently while I was out of town caring for my mother during her extended illness," my voice dripped with biting sarcasm as I delivered those words in a sweetly saccharine tone.

By this point, Scott was standing up, obviously ready to bolt. Vanessa's sobs had turned to outraged screeches as she tugged on Scott's arm, clearly worried he was about to take off without her. My attention was caught by the two uniformed police officers who slipped in unnoticed at the back of the room. I couldn't help the triumphant smile that crossed my lips as I watched the scene unfolding before me, and I couldn't wait to see what happened next.

Mike and James both headed toward the front row, the uniformed officers right on their heels.I vaguely registered Chris speaking urgently to the funeral director, who had stepped forward to intercede.He took a step back as Chris finished speaking, so presumably Chris had convinced him to stay out of it.

As the funeral attendees looked on in shock, I saw Mike and James approach Scott and Vanessa respectively, handcuffs out at the ready.

"Scott Montgomery, you are under arrest for mortgage fraud, conspiracy to commit fraud, possession and distribution of controlled substances and extortion."

"Vanessa Caldwell, you are under arrest for mortgage fraud and embezzlement."

"You have the right to remain silent...."