How a Secret Real Estate Empire Brought Down a Cruel Family Legacy
I forwarded the audio file to my attorney, Arthur, along with a brief message.
*We have the confession. Proceed with the transition plan for tomorrow night.*
My phone buzzed almost immediately in reply.
It was not Arthur.
It was a text from the event coordinator for the Dallas Real Estate Gala.
*Ms. Vance, the seating arrangements for the Apex Realty VIP table are finalized.*
*Your nameplate has been placed at the center of the dais.*
I stared at the screen, my heart beating in a steady, cold rhythm.
Then, the landline on the kitchen counter began to ring.
It was a number I did not recognize, but the caller ID showed the name of the Dallas County Sheriff’s Department.
I answered the receiver.
“This is Jocelyn Ralston,” I said.
“Mrs. Ralston, this is Deputy Miller,” a dry, flat voice replied. “We have a process server attempting to locate your husband, Graham Ralston, regarding a writ of execution on his commercial accounts.”
I leaned against the cool granite of the kitchen counter.
“He is not at home, Deputy,” I said. “But he will be attending the Dallas Real Estate Gala at the Ritz-Carlton tonight.”