Chapter 12 - The Jailhouse Bargain
The visiting room at the Coffee County Federal Detention Center was a bleak concrete box divided by scratched bulletproof glass.
I sat down on the cold metal stool, picking up the heavy black receiver attached to the wall.
On the other side of the glass, the heavy iron door buzzed and clicked open.
A guard escorted Teresa into the booth.
She looked unrecognizable. The emerald boutique dress had been replaced by a baggy, faded orange prison jumpsuit with stenciled black lettering across the back. Her dyed blonde hair was greasy and unkempt, falling in stringy clumps around her hollow, unpainted face. The gold jewelry, the manicured nails, and the regal posture had vanished.
She sat down heavily, her hands bound by a waist chain that clinked against the metal counter. She picked up the receiver with trembling, age-spotted hands.
"Connor," she whispered, her voice cracked and dry. "You came. I knew you’d come. A mother knows her son’s heart."
"I didn't come to visit my mother," I said through the phone, my voice completely devoid of warmth. "I came to deliver a legal notice."
I held up a stamped document against the glass:
UNITED STATES DISTRICT COURT: NOTICE OF COMPLETE DISCLAIMER AND PERPETUAL RESTRAINING ORDER.
Teresa’s eyes darted across the paper, her breath fogging up the glass. "What is that? Connor, listen to me! You have to talk to the prosecutor! Marcus... they have Marcus in a cell down the hall! They're talking about ten years in federal prison for wire fraud! Ten years, Connor! He won't survive in there!"
"Marcus should have thought about that before he stole my company payroll to cover his illegal gambling debts," I replied coldly.
"He’s your brother!" Teresa shrieked, banging her chained wrists against the counter, causing the guard behind her to take a warning step forward. "He made a mistake! But you... you have money, Connor! The lawyer told me about Arthur's estate! The land in Spring Hill was recovered! You’re getting two million dollars in restitution from the federal seizure fund!"
"Amy and I are getting that restitution," I corrected. "Every single dollar that you stole from my father and tried to steal from my son is being placed into an irrevocable trust for Frederick's education and future."
Teresa leaned in close to the glass, her eyes bulging with desperate, manipulative intensity.
"Connor, baby, listen to me," she whispered, reverting to that soft, suffocating tone she had used on me since childhood. "We can make a deal. I have notebooks. I have every transaction Jerry, Betsy, and Mason ever made. If you pay for my private defense attorney and get the judge to give me house arrest, I will testify against all of them. I’ll hand the feds everything on a silver platter. You and me... we can put this behind us. You can bring Frederick to visit me on weekends. I can teach Amy how to be a real homemaker..."
I stared at the woman behind the glass.
I looked at the deep lines around her mouth, the calculating gleam in her eyes, and realized that even sitting in federal chains, she still didn't understand. She wasn't capable of remorse. She didn't regret the cruelty she had inflicted on Amy; she only regretted that she had been caught before the money cleared.
"Amy doesn't need lessons from a convicted felon," I said softly.
Teresa froze, the fake maternal warmth instantly vanishing from her face, replaced by that venomous, serpentine rage.
"You ungrateful little bastard," she hissed through the receiver, spitting against the glass. "You think you're a big man now? You're nothing without me! You’re just a dirty ditch digger who got lucky! I should have left you in the dirt when your father died!"
"Goodbye, Teresa," I said.
I hung up the heavy black receiver, resting it securely in its metal cradle.
May you like
Teresa screamed, thrashing against the waist chains, hurling curses and slurs through the soundproof glass as the guard grabbed her by the arm and dragged her backward through the iron door.
I stood up, turned my back on the glass, and walked out into the open air without looking back once.
