Chapter 7 - The Criminal Charge
The county detention center’s holding cell was cold, illuminated by flickering fluorescent bulbs that cast a sickly green hue over the concrete walls.
Evelyn sat on a metal bench, stripped of her jewelry, her designer shoes replaced with orange slip-on rubber sandals, wearing an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit. Across the visitation partition, separated by thick plexiglass, sat a young, exhausted-looking woman with a battered briefcase: *Courtney Hill, Public Defender.*
"Where is my private counsel?" Evelyn demanded, her voice hoarse, her eyes bloodshot. "I demanded Julian Vance provide me with the estate’s corporate attorneys!"
Courtney Hill sighed, adjusting her glasses and looking down at a meager intake file. "Mrs. Sterling, Julian Vance represents the victim, Nora Sterling, and the Sterling Estate trust. They are your accusers. They are legally barred from providing you with representation due to an extreme conflict of interest. As you currently have zero accessible liquid assets, the state has appointed me to represent you at your arraignment this morning."
"I am Arthur Sterling’s wife! I have millions!"
"You have zero dollars in your personal account, Mrs. Sterling," Courtney said bluntly. "Your accounts have been frozen by the Attorney General’s office pending the grand jury indictment for financial fraud. Now, we need to discuss your bail hearing in twenty minutes."
"Bail? Of course I want bail! Set it and let me go back to my home!"
Courtney looked at Evelyn as if she were clinically insane. "You aren't going back to that house. There is a permanent restraining order. Furthermore, the District Attorney is asking for five hundred thousand dollars cash bail. They consider you an extreme flight risk, given your access to international ties and the severity of the charges."
"Five hundred thousand dollars?!" Evelyn gasped. "I don't have five hundred dollars!"
"Then unless someone posts a surety bond on your behalf—which requires collateral you do not own—you will remain remanded in county custody until your preliminary trial date in four months."
Four months. In an orange jumpsuit. In a concrete cell.
Evelyn felt the walls of the room closing in on her like a vice.
Meanwhile, down the hall in the administration wing, Violet was undergoing her own interrogation.
She sat in a small interview room across from two agents from the State Bureau of Investigation Financial Crimes Unit. On the table between them lay a paper stack six inches thick.
"Miss Hayes," Agent Miller said, tapping a pen against the cover sheet. "Your mother has already been booked on the violent felony assault charges. But your signature is on seventy-four individual wire transfers originating from the Arthur Sterling Pediatric Endowment Fund."
"I didn't know!" Violet wept, mascara running down her cheeks in dark, muddy rivers. "Mom told me it was my inheritance! She told me it was my salary for managing the house! I didn't steal anything!"
"Miss Hayes, you were the sole registered managing officer of *V.H. Creative Consulting LLC*," the second agent replied coldly. "You signed corporate tax filings under penalty of perjury claiming these transfers were legitimate business expenses for marketing services. Did you provide marketing services to a pediatric cancer foundation?"
Violet’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
"Did you?" the agent pressed.
"I... I organized their social media presence..." she lied weakly.
"We pulled the foundation's social media accounts. They haven't posted since 2018. Meanwhile, your personal debit card was charged thirty-two thousand dollars at Dior in Paris, sixteen thousand dollars at the Bellagio in Las Vegas, and twelve thousand dollars for a custom horse riding saddle. None of those are marketing expenses for cancer research."
"It was Mom’s idea!" Violet broke down, sobbing hysterically, throwing her hands into the air. "She told me Nora would never find out! She told me Nora was too stupid and weak to ever check the accounts! Don't put me in jail! Please! I’ll testify against her! I’ll tell you everything she did!"
The two agents exchanged a brief, knowing glance.
"We are prepared to offer you a cooperation agreement, Miss Hayes," Agent Miller said calmly. "You will surrender all assets purchased with the embezzled funds: the designer clothes, the jewelry, the luxury goods. You will sign a full confession detailing Evelyn’s role in the embezzlement. In exchange, the state will recommend five years of supervised felony probation, two thousand hours of community service, and full restitution to the endowment fund."
"Restitution?!" Violet gasped. "How am I supposed to pay back three hundred thousand dollars?!"
"You have two hands and two feet, Miss Hayes," the agent said without a shred of sympathy. "You will get a minimum-wage job. Your wages will be garnished by fifty percent until the principal and interest are paid in full. If you default on a single payment, your probation is revoked, and you will serve seven years in state prison. Do you accept the terms?"
Violet looked down at the confession document sitting on the metal table.
Her life as a pampered, entitled socialite was dead. Her designer clothes would be auctioned off by the state. Her resume was completely tainted by a felony conviction. She would spend the next decade scrubbing floors or working behind a counter just to pay back the money she had flaunted on Instagram.
May you like
Trembling, she picked up the pen and signed her name.
***