I read it to him. He was quiet for a moment. I heard him typing. Then he stopped.
“Claire, where did you get this?”
“Daniel’s mother. She accused me of stealing. But the money went into this account. Daniel’s name is on it.”
“Claire, this account is connected to a bigger network. I’ve seen it before. It’s used for money laundering. There are at least a dozen other accounts tied to it. Some of them belong to people I recognize.”
“Who?”
He paused. “Your father-in-law. Daniel’s father. He’s not dead, Claire. He’s been running a fraud ring from a condo in Florida for the past six years.”
The room went silent.
Daniel’s mother stopped dialing. Her phone clattered to the floor.
Daniel stared at me. His face was white. His mouth was open.
“What?” he whispered.
I looked at him. “Your father is alive.”
“No,” he said. “He died. We went to the funeral. I saw the casket.”
“You saw a casket,” Michael said through the phone. “You didn’t see the body. It was a closed service. Your mother arranged it.”
Daniel turned to his mother. “Mom?”
She didn’t answer. She was staring at the floor. Her hands were shaking.
“Mom,” Daniel said again. His voice was cracking. “Tell me he’s lying.”
She looked up. Her eyes were wet. “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know what?”
“I didn’t know he was still alive. I thought he was dead. I thought the money was from insurance. I thought—”
“You thought what?” Daniel shouted. “You thought you could frame Claire? You thought you could steal from her? You thought you could lie to me?”
His mother started to cry. “He told me he would kill me if I told anyone. He told me he would kill you. He told me he would kill the children.”
“What children?”
She didn’t answer.
Daniel grabbed her shoulders. “What children?”
She looked at him. Her face was broken. “Your brothers. You have two brothers. They live in Florida. With your father.”
Daniel let go of her. He stepped back. He looked at me. He looked at the officer. He looked at the screen.
“I didn’t know,” he said. “I swear I didn’t know.”
I looked at him. The man I had married. The man who had stood silent while his mother pulled my hair. The man who had let me be accused of theft. The man who had watched me be humiliated.
“I believe you,” I said.
He looked relieved. Just for a moment.
