Chapter 3 - THE ARRIVAL OF JUSTICE
The men in suits didn't look like guests.
They moved with the synchronized precision of a strike team.
There were six of them,
led by a woman with a badge clipped to her belt.
Beatrice gasped,
dropping her wine glass.
The red liquid splashed across the white tablecloth,
mixing with the remnants of Evelyn’s salad.
Graham stood up,
his face turning a ghostly shade of white.
“What is the meaning of this?”
he demanded,
trying to find his "Ashcroft" voice.
“This is a private party!”
The lead agent stepped forward,
her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Evelyn.
Evelyn gave a small,
imperceptible nod.
“Federal Bureau of Investigation,”
the agent announced,
her voice echoing through the silence.
“We have warrants for the arrest of Beatrice Ashcroft and Graham Ashcroft.”
The relatives gasped in unison.
Beatrice’s hand flew to her throat,
clutching the pearls that were bought with stolen money.
“This is a mistake!”
she shrieked.
“Do you know who we are?”
“We know exactly who you are,”
the agent replied,
stepping closer.
“Graham Ashcroft,
you are being charged with wire fraud,
embezzlement,
and money laundering.”
“Beatrice Ashcroft,
you are being charged with conspiracy and tax evasion.”
Graham looked at Evelyn,
his eyes filled with a sudden,
venomous realization.
“You,”
he hissed.
“You did this.”
Evelyn didn't move.
She took a slow sip of her wine.
“I didn't do anything,
Graham.
I just did my job.”
“I audited the books.”
“Just like you asked me to.”
Graham lunged across the table toward her,
but two agents were faster.
They grabbed his arms and pinned him against the chair.
The sound of handcuffs clicking shut was the only music left in the room.
The relatives were scrambling now,
some trying to leave,
others recording on their phones.
The aunt who had stayed seated was now weeping into her napkin.
The cousin who had tried to take a picture was frozen in terror.
Beatrice was being led away,
her gold heels clicking unevenly on the floor.
“Evelyn!
Fix this!”
she screamed.
“You’re an Ashcroft!”
“No,
Beatrice,”
Evelyn said,
standing up.
“I was always just a Harper.”
“And I’m going home now.”
She watched as they were led out of the restaurant,
past the waiters,
past the curious onlookers in the lobby.
The Ashcroft empire hadn't just fallen.
It had been dismantled in front of the people they sought to impress.
Evelyn turned to the remaining guests.
“Enjoy your dinner,”
she said,
her voice cold.
“The bill is already paid.”
“By the federal government.”
She walked out of the room,
leaving the silence behind.
The air outside was cool and crisp.
She breathed it in,
feeling the weight of eight years finally lift.
A car was waiting for her.
May you like
A black sedan that didn't belong to the Ashcrofts.
She got in and didn't look back.
