Chapter 7 - THE CIVIL LAWSUITTwo weeks later.
While the criminal case against Vanessa wound its way through the Charleston County grand jury system, Daniel and I met with Attorney Marcus Vance in his high-rise office overlooking the Cooper River.
“The grand jury returned a true bill this morning,” Marcus reported, sliding a blue folder across his mahogany desk. “Vanessa has been formally indicted on one felony count of Grand Larceny and one count of Malicious Injury to Property. Her trial date is set for November.”
“What about her defense strategy?” Daniel asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“Arthur Sterling is attempting to build an insanity defense,” Marcus chuckled dryly. “He’s claiming severe emotional distress and temporary diminished capacity. But the prosecution has the receipt from the hardware store showing Vanessa purchased the glue three days before the wedding. That proves premeditation.”
I took a sip of water, looking out the window at the harbor. “And what about our civil options?”
Marcus pulled a second document from his briefcase, a sharp, victorious smile spreading across his face.
“In addition to the criminal charges,” Marcus stated, “we have officially filed a civil tort lawsuit against Vanessa Vance and Richard Vance for Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress, Tortious Interference with a Contract, and Conversion.”
“Why my father?” I asked.
“Because your father publicly promised at the scene to indemnify the damages,” Marcus explained. “And more importantly, the venue contract for Hawthorne Ridge Estate was signed under your father’s primary credit account. Under the venue’s indemnification clause, any intentional property damage caused by an invited guest of the primary account holder incurs a fifty-thousand-dollar liquidated damages penalty.”
I stared at the paperwork.
By attempting to shield Vanessa from the law, my father had legally tied himself to her crime.
“We are seeking one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in compensatory and punitive damages,” Marcus added flatly.
That evening, the civil summons was officially served to my father at his country club during his weekly dinner with the regional hospital board.
The scandal was absolute.
Within forty-eight hours, three major donors pulled their funding from my father’s hospital foundation. The board of directors called an emergency meeting, requesting my father take an immediate, mandatory leave of absence as Chairman due to the mounting public legal embarrassment.
My parents’ pristine, high-society world was crumbling like dry paper in a fire.
My phone rang at 9:00 PM. It was a text from Jenna:
Did you see the news?! The country club suspended your dad's membership! Vanessa is completely radio silent! You won, Emily!
May you like
I looked out the window of our living room at the quiet, moonlit trees of Mount Pleasant.
I didn't feel like I had "won" a game. I felt like a surgeon who had finally cut out a malignant tumor that had been killing the body for twenty years. It was painful, it was messy, but for the first time in my life, the air in my lungs felt clean.
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