Chapter 6 - The Storage Unit
The police searched the storage unit the next morning.
I wasn't there.
They wouldn't let me be.
So I sat at Leah's office with Tiana and Brianna, waiting.
Three women Adrian had lied to.
Three women who should have hated each other.
Instead, we sat around a table sharing coffee and trauma.
Brianna looked younger than I expected.
Twenty-nine.
Beautiful.
Nervous.
She wouldn't meet my eyes at first.
Finally she said, "I'm sorry."
I looked at her.
"For what?"
"For sleeping with your husband."
Tiana stared down at her hands.
Brianna continued.
"I knew he was married. I believed the arrangement story, but I still should have questioned it."
I appreciated that she didn't hide behind Adrian's lies completely.
"Thank you."
She nodded, eyes wet.
"I don't expect forgiveness."
"I'm not ready to give it."
"I understand."
"But I don't blame you for what he stole from you."
Brianna looked relieved.
Tiana reached across the table and touched her hand.
"He made all of us feel stupid."
"No," I said.
They looked at me.
"He made us uninformed."
That distinction mattered.
I had spent enough years feeling stupid for trusting my husband.
Trust wasn't stupidity.
Abusing trust was the failure.
Leah entered holding a yellow legal pad.
"The search is still ongoing."
"What did they find?" I asked.
"Boxes of documents."
My stomach tightened.
"What kind?"
"Financial records. Copies of IDs. Mail. Electronics."
Brianna whispered, "How many people?"
"We don't know."
That answer stayed in the room.
How many people?
Maybe more women.
Maybe clients.
Maybe strangers.
Adrian had always been good at making people feel seen.
He remembered birthdays.
Complimented waiters.
Helped elderly neighbors carry groceries.
For years, I thought that warmth was character.
Now I wondered if it was practice.
Leah sat down.
"There's also cash."
"How much?"
"Police haven't confirmed."
My phone buzzed.
A message from Adrian.
Can we stop this before you ruin everything?
I showed Leah.
"Don't answer."
Then another came.
Think about the kids.
My eyes burned.
He had found the weapon he thought would work.
Guilt.
A third message.
You want their father in prison because you're angry I cheated?
I laughed bitterly.
Tiana looked over.
"What?"
I showed her.
Her jaw tightened.
"He did that to me too."
"What?"
"Made everything sound like an overreaction."
Brianna nodded.
"He told me if I ever felt guilty, it was because society hated complicated relationships."
I almost smiled.
"That sounds like him."
Leah's phone rang.
She answered.
"Yes."
We watched her expression change.
"Where?"
A pause.
"Okay."
Another pause.
"Thank you."
She hung up.
"What?"
She looked at me.
"Police found the original deed to your house."
My chest tightened.
"Original?"
"With your forged signature."
"How do they know it's forged?"
"They also found practice sheets."
I went still.
"What?"
"Pages of your signature."
My stomach turned.
"Over and over."
Tiana covered her mouth.
Leah continued.
"They found signatures for Tiana too. Brianna. Other names."
Brianna started crying.
I felt strangely numb.
There was something uniquely horrifying about imagining Adrian sitting somewhere practicing my name.
The loops.
The slant.
The way I crossed my V.
A marriage reduced to penmanship.
"He practiced me," I whispered.
Tiana looked at me.
I couldn't explain why that hurt so much.
Maybe because my signature was intimate.
Something automatic.
Something uniquely mine.
He had studied it like a key he wanted to copy.
Leah sat beside me.
"This is strong evidence."
"Good."
My voice sounded far away.
"Good."
By afternoon, Adrian stopped messaging.
That scared me more.
Leah arranged for temporary protection orders related to financial access and property transfers.
The bank froze the disputed credit line.
The title company flagged the deed.
For the first time, we were closing doors he had been walking through freely.
Then Detective Harris arrived.
Tall.
Calm.
Gray suit.
He introduced himself and sat across from us.
"I need to ask some uncomfortable questions."
"Ask."
He opened a folder.
"Did Adrian ever discuss moving money overseas?"
"No."
"Cryptocurrency?"
"Not with me."
"Investment opportunities?"
I remembered something.
"Two years ago, he wanted me to invest my grandmother's life insurance money."
"With who?"
"A friend."
"What friend?"
I closed my eyes.
"Daniel Mercer."
Detective Harris wrote it down.
"How much?"
"I refused."
"Why?"
"I wanted to pay off debt and save for the kids."
A bitter thought crossed my mind.
Had my refusal started all this?
No.
I stopped myself.
Adrian's crimes were not caused by my boundaries.
Detective Harris looked at Tiana.
"Did he ever ask you to open accounts?"
"Yes."
"What kind?"
"An investment app. He said we'd save for a house."
"Did you deposit money?"
"About twelve thousand over time."
"Is it still there?"
Tiana's face fell.
"I don't know."
Brianna had a similar story.
A "future fund."
Ten thousand.
Detective Harris nodded slowly.
"Daniel Mercer operated what appears to be an investment network using shell companies."
"Operated?" I asked.
"Past tense?"
"He disappeared this morning."
The room froze.
"What do you mean disappeared?"
"His office is empty."
"Empty how?"
"Computers gone. Records removed."
Leah's eyes narrowed.
"He was warned."
"Possibly."
My stomach twisted.
"By Adrian?"
"Possibly."
I leaned back.
"Where is Adrian?"
Detective Harris glanced at me.
"We're looking for him."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
"He didn't report to work. His phone is off."
"His car?"
"Found at the airport."
Tiana whispered, "He ran."
Detective Harris raised a hand.
"We don't know that yet."
I did.
I knew Adrian.
He planned exits.
That was who he was.
Always one reality ready to replace another.
"Check flights."
"We are."
"Passports?"
"His is flagged."
I suddenly remembered something.
"Wait."
I stood.
Three years ago, Adrian insisted we get passport cards for the entire family before a cruise.
The cruise never happened.
He kept the documents in his office.
"Could he have another passport?"
Detective Harris looked sharply at me.
"Do you know that he does?"
"No."
"But?"
"I know he keeps things."
Like women.
Accounts.
Documents.
Entire lives.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Adrian.
Standing in what looked like an airport terminal.
Beside him was Daniel Mercer.
The message beneath it read:
Your husband stole from the wrong person.
I showed Detective Harris.
His expression hardened.
"Do not respond."
Then another message came.
Ask him what happened to Marcus.
Tiana gasped.
"Marcus is in custody."
Detective Harris immediately called another officer.
No answer.
He tried again.
Then his face changed.
"What?"
He stood.
"Marcus was released thirty minutes ago pending further investigation."
"Why?"
"His attorney argued he believed he had permission to enter."
Tiana went pale.
Detective Harris grabbed his coat.
"Stay here."
"Why?"
"Because if that message is real, someone may be targeting everyone connected to Adrian."
My phone buzzed a third time.
This time, it was a video.
Adrian stood alone in a dim room.
His face was bruised.
His voice shook.
"Vanessa."
I stared.
"If you get this, don't trust Daniel."
He looked over his shoulder.
"He has everything."
The video ended.
For one second, I almost felt sorry for him.
Then another message appeared.
A bank transfer receipt.
Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
Recipient: Adrian Cole.
Sender: Vanessa Cole.
My mouth went dry.
May you like
I had never authorized it.
And the transfer had been made that morning.
