Chapter 6 - The Cornered RatsStripped of their home, their bank accounts, and their corporate credibility, Corbin and Brielle retreated to a cheap extended-stay motel near the highway. It was a far cry from the luxury resort-style life they had been enjoying on my dime.
On Friday night, as I was working late in my laboratory, my private line rang. It was an unknown caller ID, but I knew who it was.
I pressed speakerphone and set the receiver on the lab counter. "Speak."
"Nora... please listen to me," Corbin’s broken voice came through the speaker. He sounded intoxicated, his speech slurred and desperate. "You've ruined us. Nobody will hire me. The bank froze the Sunburst accounts. We don't even have enough cash to pay for this motel past tomorrow!"
"Actions have consequences, Corbin," I replied, carefully measuring a saline solution into a beaker. "You committed grand larceny, wire fraud, and spousal deception. You brought this upon yourself."
"It was Brielle!" Corbin suddenly shouted, his tone shifting into frantic betrayal. "She pushed me into it! She was the one who came up with the shell company! She told me you'd never notice the money! It wasn't my idea!"
In the background of the call, I heard a sharp slap followed by Brielle’s screaming voice.
"You liar!" Brielle shrieked into the phone. "You told me your wife was an idiot who just sat in her lab all day! You told me we were going to take her money and move to Cabo!"
"Shut up, you orange freak!" Corbin yelled back.
The audio dissolved into a pathetic, chaotic shouting match between the two lovers. They were turning on each other like cornered rats, tearing apart the flimsy foundation of their affair the second hardship hit.
"Are both of you finished?" I asked calmly into the microphone.
The shouting stopped instantly.
"Nora," Corbin whined, breathing heavily. "If I testify against Brielle... if I give the DA all her texts proving she planned the wire transfers... will you drop the civil lawsuits against me?"
I let out a soft, cold laugh that echoed through the quiet laboratory.
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"You really don't get it, do you, Corbin?" I said softly. "I don't need your testimony. I have the digital paper trail, the forensic bank records, and the notarized affidavits. You are both going down, and you can argue about whose fault it was from separate federal prison cells."
I hung up the phone and muted the line, leaving them to consume each other in the dark.
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