Part 2: The Policy With My Name on It
Agent Davis opened the folder while I sat up in the hospital bed. Caleb stood by the window, watching the agents as intently as I was.
“Julian develops luxury buildings,” I said. “What does that have to do with the FBI?”
“We’ve been investigating how he finances them,” Agent Davis replied. “We believe some of his projects have been used to hide money from criminal operations. We’re also looking into payments connected to zoning approvals and his construction supply network.”
I looked at the folder, then back at her. Julian had always kept me away from his work. His home office was locked, he kept phones I wasn’t allowed to use, and sometimes he left in the middle of the night over what he called contractor emergencies. I’d resented the secrecy without ever imagining it might hide something like this.
“I don’t know anything about those transactions,” I said.
“We understand,” Agent Miller replied. “We’re not saying you were involved.”
Caleb crossed his arms. “She’s here because he broke her arm. Can’t you arrest him for that?”
“The assault is being investigated,” Miller said. “Our concern is what Julian might do now that Clara has spoken to the police.”
Agent Davis pulled a page from the folder and set it on my tray table. It was a copy of a life insurance policy issued six months earlier, shortly after I’d told Julian I was pregnant. My name was printed across the top.
The benefit was two million dollars. Julian was listed as the primary beneficiary.
“I’ve never seen this,” I said. “I didn’t sign it.”
“We believe the signature was forged,” Davis told me. “We’re looking into the notary and how the policy was obtained.”
I read my name again. I didn’t know why Julian had taken out a policy without telling me, but seeing him named as its beneficiary after what he’d done the night before filled me with dread. I pressed my hand over my stomach.
Caleb pulled a chair closer. Agent Miller said they were treating the policy seriously, though they were still gathering evidence about Julian’s intentions. He didn’t ask me to draw conclusions the document alone couldn’t prove.
Over the next two days, messages arrived through Julian’s lawyers and assistants. Flowers came with a note saying he was sorry and wanted me home. Another message called what had happened a misunderstanding caused by stress.
I remembered how calmly he’d told the nurse I’d fallen on the stairs. What he’d said to me in the kitchen had been something else entirely. I didn’t answer the flowers or the messages.
On the third day, Miller and Davis came back. They had financial records, they explained, but Julian had hidden much of his business behind other companies and other people. They wanted more evidence of what he knew and what he planned to do.
Agent Davis waited until I met her eyes. “Clara, we need to ask whether you’d consider speaking with him while we record the conversation.”
Caleb whirled toward her. “Absolutely not.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything,” I said.
“I know,” Davis replied. “You can say no. We would explain the plan and the risks before you decide.”
I looked down at my cast. Julian had threatened to take my daughter if I told anyone about my arm. Now the agents were asking me to let him hear my voice again, and perhaps give him the chance to threaten me a second time.
