Chapter 8 - THE ARREST AT PACIFIC HEIGHTS
By 3:00 PM that afternoon, federal authorities and local law enforcement executed a search warrant at Jessica’s luxury penthouse in Pacific Heights.
Evelyn Vance stood across the street, monitoring the scene alongside Patricia and me, while Christopher stayed at our home with May and Lily.
Four FBI agents walked out of the apartment building carrying boxed computer towers, filing cabinets, and two designer suitcases filled with luxury goods Jessica had purchased using stolen corporate funds.
Ten minutes later, Jessica was led out through the glass doors in handcuffs.
She no longer looked like the polished, untouchable woman in silk and gold bracelets. Her hair was disheveled, her sunglasses were gone, and her eyes were wild with panic as reporters from the local news stations shouted questions from behind the police tape.
“Jessica! Is it true you embezzled nearly four million dollars?” “Did you blackmail your husband into signing family deeds?”
Jessica tried to hide her face behind her cuffed hands, but the news cameras caught every second of her fall.
Evelyn turned to me with a satisfied nod. “The state domestic violence charges will hold her until federal arraignment tomorrow morning. Between the wire fraud, identity theft, and physical assault, she’s looking at a minimum of twelve years in federal prison.”
I let out a long, deep breath that felt like it had been trapped in my chest for years.
“Thank you, Evelyn,” I said. “For everything.”
“Don't thank me, Lawrence,” Evelyn smiled gently. “Thank your daughter. Patricia was the one who called my firm three months ago when she first noticed bruises on Christopher’s wrists.”
I turned in shock to look at my daughter.
May you like
Patricia looked down at her hands, her voice soft. “I knew Christopher was being abused, Dad. I saw how terrified he was of her. I just couldn't prove it until last night.”
I pulled Patricia into a tight, fierce hug, tears stinging my eyes. “You saved your brother, Patricia. You saved all of us.”
