Chapter 7 - Unraveling the Web
Tuesday brought a visit from an unexpected visitor in the lobby of our office building.
Chloe, the blonde pharmaceutical representative who had been clinging to Jack’s arm at the airport, was waiting near the reception desk when I stepped out of the private elevator. Her designer handbag was gone, replaced by a cheap nylon tote, and her face was pale, lacking the glossy, untouchable sheen she had worn in Terminal C.
She saw me coming and hurried forward, blocking my path.
"Megan, right?" she said, her voice shaking with a mix of desperation and humiliation. "I... I need to talk to you."
I stopped, looking at her with cold indifference. "You have thirty seconds before security escorts you out."
Chloe swallowed hard, wringing her hands. "I didn't know. Jack told me you were separated. He told me you were cold, that you didn't care about him, that the divorce papers were already filed. He swore to me he was leaving you legally."
"And you believed him because he bought you expensive dinners and promised you a luxury life funded by stolen hospital grants?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Chloe flinched. "I was an idiot, okay? But look at what he did to me too! The police questioned me yesterday. My company fired me because my name was tied to the pharmaceutical kickback spreadsheets he kept on his laptop. My entire reputation is destroyed."
"Then I suggest you find a good defense attorney," I said, stepping past her. "Because ignorance of a felony is not a legal defense, Chloe."
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"Wait!" she cried out, turning around. "He's falling apart, Megan. He's sitting in a holding cell downtown, crying like a child, screaming your name over and over again. He genuinely thought you would never leave him. He thought you were bulletproof."
"People who think they're bulletproof usually forget to check who’s holding the gun," I answered without breaking stride, walking toward the private elevator.
