“I’m watching the cameras.”
Rebecca appeared on the porch carrying a large handbag.
She used the key I had given her and went inside.
Michael told me to call the police.
I did.
While waiting, I watched her move through the house.
Living room.
Kitchen.
Upstairs hallway.
Then my office.
She stayed there almost nine minutes.
When she came out, she carried a document box.
I recognized it immediately.
Tax returns.
Investment statements.
Property records.
Copies of my trust documents.
Everything I should never have allowed her to reach.
Police arrived before she reached her car.
Through the camera, I watched two officers speak with her.
Rebecca repeatedly pointed toward the house.
One officer took the box.
Another called me.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“This is Officer Collins with the Evanston Police Department. Ms. Reynolds says she resides at this address.”
“She doesn’t.”
“She says she is your fiancée.”
“She was. The wedding was canceled today.”
There was a brief pause.
“Did she have permission to enter tonight?”
“No.”
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