Chapter 6 - The Tiger in the Courtroom
The next morning, I walked into the downtown offices of *Morrison & Cole*.
I didn't have the money for a high-rise firm, but I had something better: Claire Morrison. Claire had been my best friend in high school before she went on to become one of the fiercest domestic abuse and custody attorneys in the state. She specialized in tearing apart arrogant, wealthy men who thought their checkbooks placed them above the law.
When Claire saw me walk into her office, she didn't just greet me; she pulled me into a fierce embrace.
"I saw the filing Richard’s vultures sent over this morning," Claire said, pushing a cup of tea into my hands and pulling out a yellow legal pad. "Evelyn is pulling out every dirty trick. They're claiming parental alienation, kidnapping, and questioning your financial stability. They want emergency sole custody of all three kids by Friday."
"They won't get them," I said, setting my jaw.
"Damn right they won't," Claire smirked. "Now, tell me everything. Start with the bank accounts, the corporate funds, and Sarah Jenkins."
For the next three hours, I laid out every piece of evidence I had painstakingly collected over the past five years.
I handed Claire the flash drive containing Richard’s financial records. While Richard thought I was merely playing the docile suburban housewife, I had been auditing his accounts. When Sarah was dying, Richard hadn't used his personal savings to pay off her hospital bills and secure her silence—he had routed the payments through a shell company listed as an "independent architectural consultancy" billed directly to Bennett Logistics.
"Good Lord," Claire muttered, scrolling through the bank statements on her laptop, her eyes lighting up with professional ferocity. "This isn't just an affair cover-up, Laura. This is corporate embezzlement and tax evasion. Over six hundred thousand dollars billed over four years under fraudulent invoices signed by Richard Bennett."
"And that’s not all," I added.
I pulled out a worn, blue leather notebook.
"What's this?" Claire asked.
"Sarah’s personal journal," I said. "Before she passed away, she mailed it to a postal box I set up. She documented every conversation with Richard. But more importantly, Sarah came from a modest background, but her grandfather had purchased shares in a small tech startup in the late nineties. When Sarah died, those shares matured into a trust worth nearly 1.8 million dollars."
Claire’s eyes widened. "Sarah left a trust fund for Emma?"
"Yes," I said, my voice trembling with indignation. "And Richard was appointed the sole executor of the trust until Emma turns twenty-one. Do you know what Richard did with that money, Claire?"
Claire leaned forward, her pen hovering over the pad. "Tell me."
"He used it to collateralize his own personal investments in Bennett Logistics," I whispered. "He risked Emma's entire inheritance to secure his vice-presidency seat when the company expanded three years ago. If the company took a hit, Emma’s trust would be completely wiped out. He stole his dying mistress’s legacy to impress his mother."
Claire slammed her pen onto the desk. A vicious grin spread across her face.
"Laura, my dear," Claire said, standing up and buttoning her blazer. "Evelyn Bennett thinks she’s walking into family court to crush an unemployed housewife. She thinks a biased judge and a high-priced retainer are going to hand her those children."
Claire tapped the folder containing the financial records and the blue journal.
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"By the time I finish with Richard Bennett on Friday morning, he won't be worrying about custody. He’ll be worrying about whether he’s wearing an orange jumpsuit to federal prison."
***
