Chapter 8 - THE SMEAR CAMPAIGN
I rushed to the living room wall-mounted television and clicked the remote.
A local news anchor was speaking against a backdrop of the Austin police precinct, displaying a graphic with my brother Ethan’s face next to a headline that read: FINANCIAL FRAUD SCANDAL TIED TO LATE ANALYST.
"Breaking news tonight in the ongoing investigation surrounding Rebecca Brooks," the anchor reported smoothly. "Defense attorneys for Mrs. Brooks have submitted a series of leaked financial documents claiming that her late husband, Ethan Brooks, was the primary architect behind an international corporate embezzlement scheme totaling over four million dollars from TechCorp Global. Furthermore, legal filings allege that Ethan's brother, Thomas Miller, may have knowingly handled laundered funds through family property accounts."
I dropped the remote onto the rug.
It was a complete, fabricated lie—a desperate, scorched-earth smear campaign designed by Rebecca’s high-priced defense team to muddy the waters, ruin my reputation, and cast doubt on my fitness as an emergency guardian for the children.
"That's insane," I muttered, pacing across the living room. "Ethan never stole a dime in his life."
My phone rang again. It was Marcus Thorne.
"Thomas, I just saw the broadcast," Marcus said urgently. "Don't panic. The judge knows this is a classic diversion tactic used by desperate defendants facing capital murder charges. However, Child Protective Services is legally required to review any public allegations of financial impropriety involving a guardian. A social worker will need to stop by your house tomorrow morning for a standard secondary audit."
"Let them come," I said fiercely. "I have nothing to hide. Every dollar in my accounts is clean."
"Good. But be careful, Thomas," Marcus warned. "Rebecca is cornered. A cornered animal is at its most dangerous."
That evening, after putting Leo and Maya to sleep in their new, sunlit bedrooms, I sat at my home office desk to review my corporate tax records and personal bank statements to prepare for the CPS audit.
As I opened my encrypted financial folder, a hidden sub-folder caught my eye—one I hadn't created.
It was labeled: E_Backup_2023.
I frowned. I didn't recognize the file tag. With a cautious click, I opened it.
Inside was a single digital video file recorded by my late brother Ethan just three days before his death.
My hands began to tremble as I hovered my mouse over the play button. I clicked it.
The video loaded. Ethan’s face appeared on the screen, looking pale, exhausted, and terrified, sitting right at the very desk I was currently sitting at.
"Thomas," Ethan’s recorded voice spoke softly from the speakers. "If you're watching this, it means Rebecca finally poisoned me, and you've uncovered the truth. What the news media doesn't know—what Rebecca is trying to frame me for—is actually her doing. She used my corporate login credentials while I was asleep to embezzle the funds from TechCorp Global to pay off her underground gambling syndicates. I found the ledger. I confronted her. That's why she had to kill me."
Ethan leaned closer to the laptop camera, his eyes filled with absolute terror.
"She hid the physical ledger in the false bottom of our old family cedar chest in our attic on Maplewood Drive. If you want to clear my name, and put her away for life, you need to find that ledger before her defense attorney sends someone to destroy it."
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The video ended, plunging my office into heavy, breathless silence.
The final piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place. And time had just run out.
