Chapter 7 - Lucia Reyes
I had spent thirty years believing my family was ordinary.
My father owned a small construction company.
My mother taught elementary school.
Elena managed a dental clinic.
I worked in architectural design.
There were no hidden fortunes.
No mysterious relatives.
No scandals.
Then, on my wedding night, that entire story collapsed.
Rebecca found the first real records of Lucia Reyes shortly before midnight.
She had worked for Valdez International from 1999 until 2003.
Not as a hotel accountant.
As a forensic accountant.
Her job was investigating internal financial irregularities.
Anton’s father, Alejandro Valdez, had personally hired her.
That mattered.
Because company records showed that during Lucia’s final six months at Valdez International, she had discovered nearly thirty million dollars moving through offshore shell companies.
The beneficiary was unknown.
Then Lucia disappeared.
Two days later, Alejandro died.
The investigation disappeared with him.
Carmela became temporary chairperson.
Temporary became permanent.
Nobody reopened the missing-money inquiry.
Until now.
Rebecca looked at Anton.
“Your mother became extremely wealthy after your father’s death.”
Anton stared at the documents.
“She already came from money.”
“Yes.”
“But not this much.”
No.
Not this much.
Detective Price received preliminary results from the bottle residue.
The substance was zolpidem mixed with another prescription sedative.
A dangerous combination.
Enough to make someone heavily impaired.
Possibly unconscious.
Not automatically fatal.
But unpredictable with alcohol.
Carmela had known exactly what she was doing.
The question was whether she had acted alone.
She had stopped cooperating with police.
Her attorney arrived.
She refused further questions.
But the financial transfer gave investigators leverage.
The twelve million dollars was already moving between offshore entities.
Federal financial-crimes investigators became involved.
Our wedding reception had officially turned into a criminal investigation.
Around one in the morning, Marisol contacted us again.
This time by video call.
She was sitting inside a car.
Dark hair.
Sharp cheekbones.
She resembled Elena so closely it unsettled me.
But she also resembled me.
“Were you at the hotel?”
I asked.
“Yes.”
My mother covered her mouth.
“Marisol…”
“Hello, Aunt Teresa.”
“Why?”
Marisol looked tired.
“Because I was hired.”
“By Carmela?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“A man named Victor Salazar.”
Anton reacted immediately.
“Victor?”
I looked at him.
“You know him?”
“He was my father’s financial adviser.”
Marisol nodded.
“He still works with your family.”
Anton shook his head.
“Victor retired.”
“No.”
Marisol smiled without humor.
“He disappeared from public view.”
She explained.
Six months earlier, Victor contacted her.
He knew about Lucia.
He knew Marisol was Lucia’s daughter.
He claimed he wanted to reveal the truth about what happened in 2003.
At first, Marisol believed him.
Then he asked her to help with something unusual.
He wanted her to attend my wedding disguised as me.
“Why?”
“He said it was necessary to expose Carmela.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did you do?”
“I carried the suitcase.”
Anton cursed.
Marisol continued.
“I wore clothes matching yours.”
“The security video.”
“Yes.”
“You framed me.”
“I thought Victor planned to scare Carmela.”
“How does making me look like a criminal scare Carmela?”
Marisol looked ashamed.
“I didn’t know about the forged documents.”
I did not believe her completely.
Neither did Anton.
“Where is Victor now?”
“I don’t know.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Thirty minutes ago.”
Everyone went still.
“Where?”
“The hotel parking garage.”
Marisol’s eyes filled with fear.
“He met Carmela.”
That changed everything.
The two people we had assumed were enemies might be working together.
“What did you hear?”
“Not much.”
She leaned closer to the screen.
“But Victor said something about Lucia.”
“What?”
Marisol hesitated.
“He said, ‘The daughter married exactly where we needed her.’”
I felt cold.
“What daughter?”
Marisol looked directly at me.
“I assumed he meant me.”
Then she swallowed.
“But Carmela answered, ‘Not you.’”
My chest tightened.
“What did she say?”
May you like
Marisol whispered the words.
“She said, ‘Clara was always the one who mattered.’”
