Chapter 10 - The Ambush at the Jailhouse
By Thursday morning, Eleanor had managed to scrape together $50,000 by pawning her jewelry and borrowing from a loan shark she used to fund her private investments.
Wesley was scheduled for release at 10:00 a.m.
Sarah Bennett and I sat in my sedan across the street from the Franklin County Corrections Center, watching the heavy metal doors. With us in the car was Special Agent Miller of the FBI’s Cincinnati field office.
At 10:05 a.m., Wesley stepped through the heavy steel doors.
He was wearing the same polo shirt and jeans he’d been arrested in, now rumpled and stained. His swagger was gone, replaced by a nervous, twitching gait. Waiting for him at the curb was Eleanor in a rented economy sedan—a far cry from her luxury fleet.
Eleanor opened the passenger door, screaming at him to hurry before the reporters arrived.
Wesley reached for the door handle.
“Hold on, Wesley,” a voice boomed across the pavement.
Wesley turned. Four unmarked black SUVs boxed in Eleanor’s rental car from front, rear, and sides. Eight armed federal agents stepped out, tactical vests bearing bright yellow *FBI* lettering.
Special Agent Miller stepped out of my car, flashed his badge, and walked up to the stunned mother and son.
“Wesley Ward,” Miller announced, his voice echoing across the courtyard. “You are under arrest by authority of the United States District Court for the Southern District of Ohio on charges of wire fraud, interstate trafficking of counterfeit medical devices, and racketeering.”
Wesley’s mouth fell open like a broken hinge. “What? That’s absurd! I’m an independent contractor!”
“Save it for the magistrate,” Miller said, shoving Wesley against the trunk of the rental car and cuffing him with federal-grade restraints.
Eleanor screeched, throwing herself at the nearest agent. “This is harassment! My foundation has philanthropic immunity! Call Governor DeWine! Call my brother!”
Two female federal agents stepped forward, grabbing Eleanor by the arms.
“Eleanor Ward,” one of them said coldly. “You are under arrest as an unindicted co-conspirator for money laundering and falsification of non-profit tax records.”
From across the street, I lowered my window.
Eleanor caught my eye. The aristocratic matriarch was now spitting with unbridled rage, her hair matted, mascara streaming down her cheeks.
“NINA!” Eleanor shrieked like a banshee. “YOU DID THIS! YOU RUINED MY FAMILY! YOU WERE NOTHING!”
I rested my chin on my palm, looked straight into her eyes, and said nothing.
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I didn't need to shout. The sirens of four federal transport vehicles drowned out her screams anyway.
***