Chapter 16 - Beatrice at Rock Bottom
The afternoon heat was brutal, reaching 115 degrees.
Beatrice stood outside the gleaming glass entrance of Meridian Logistics Global in downtown Phoenix. Her silk blouse was stained with sweat and dirt. Her hair was tangled, her makeup smeared into the deep wrinkles around her eyes. She had walked over two miles from the bus terminal because she couldn't afford the four-dollar fare.
She tried to push through the revolving glass doors, but two armed corporate security guards instantly stepped into her path.
“Ma’am, you are barred from this facility,” the lead guard said firmly.
“Please!” Beatrice broke down, dropping to her knees right on the blistering concrete of the public sidewalk. “Please, just let me see Valerie! Let me talk to my daughter-in-law! I’ll apologize! I’ll get down on my knees and kiss her shoes! Just tell her to stop the lawsuits! Tell her to call off the FBI!”
Passersby stopped, pulling out their smartphones, filming the once-haughty socialite groveling on the pavement.
The glass doors slid open.
Valerie emerged, flanked by Arthur Pendelton and Marcus Vance. She looked immaculate, dressed in an ivory power suit, holding a leather folio, preparing to leave for a high-level board luncheon.
Beatrice lunged forward, clawing at the hem of Valerie’s trousers. “Valerie! Valerie, please! Look at me! I’m begging you! Mason is going to prison! Chloe is homeless on the street! I have nowhere to sleep tonight! Have mercy! We were family!”
Valerie stopped. She looked down at Beatrice.
There was no anger in Valerie’s eyes. There was no hatred. There was only the absolute, terrifying absence of emotion.
“We were never family, Beatrice,” Valerie said, her voice clear and resonant. “Family protects each other. Family respects boundaries. You saw me as an ATM with a pulse. You thought my silence was weakness. You thought you could strike me across the face and I would bow my head because of a wedding ring.”
“I was wrong! I made a mistake!” Beatrice sobbed, tears cutting lines through the dirt on her face. “Please, Valerie, just fifteen hundred dollars! Just give me enough to get a motel room and some food! You have so much! What is fifteen hundred dollars to you?”
“To me, fifteen hundred dollars is nothing,” Valerie replied calmly. “To you, it was the price of your dignity, your son’s freedom, and your family’s future.”
Valerie stepped over Beatrice’s outstretched hands without looking back.
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“Security,” Valerie said quietly as she walked toward her waiting town car. “Remove this trespasser from the sidewalk. If she touches my shoes again, add a second assault charge.”
***