Chapter 6 - The Freezing of Assets
By Friday morning, the story had broken past the borders of Pine Hollow. The Lexington Herald-Leader ran a front-page story on the digital edition: “Local Official Arrested in Shocking Elder Neglect and Insurance Fraud Case.”
Trevor was out on a temporary bond, paid for by his brother-in-law Marcus at the title company, but his world was shrinking by the hour. A state prosecutor from the financial crimes division had already flown in, issuing an emergency freeze on every bank account associated with Monroe Development LLC and Trevor’s personal lines.
I sat in Arthur Vance’s office, watching the rain beat against the glass window.
"We’ve got him pinned on the insurance fraud, Rachel," Arthur said, sliding a cup of tea toward me. "The insurance company is furious. They’re launching their own federal lawsuit to recover the $250,000. But there’s a problem. Trevor’s already spent most of it. He bought three separate rental properties near the county line under the LLC name."
"I don't care about the rental properties, Arthur," I said, my voice tired. "I want to make sure he can never touch Mom again. And I want the money he took from my monthly wires returned so I can pay for her medical recovery."
"The law can give you the properties, Rachel," Arthur explained, leaning forward. "Under the asset forfeiture laws for elder exploitation, we can petition the court to transfer the titles of those rental homes directly to you and Martha as restitution. It would give your mother a steady income for the rest of her life."
The door to the office opened, and Amanda Monroe walked in. She didn't look like the proud, manicured woman from the porch anymore. Her mascara was smeared, and she was wearing an oversized sweatshirt, her hands shaking as she dropped a heavy leather pouch onto Arthur’s desk.
"I didn't know," she sobbed, collapsing into one of the wooden chairs. "Rachel, I swear to God, I didn't know about the insurance money. Trevor told me the cash came from his corporate consulting work. He told me your mother wanted to live in the backyard because she liked the quiet."
"She liked the quiet of a rusted lock, Amanda?" I asked, my voice devoid of pity.
"He threatened me, Rachel!" Amanda cried, covering her face. "When I asked why she couldn't come inside for Thanksgiving last year, he told me that if I opened my mouth, he’d leave me with nothing. He’s a monster. He’s been hiding everything in this pouch. It’s his private ledger. Every wire you sent, every dollar he spent on his trucks and his mistresses in Hazard."
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I looked at the pouch. Inside was a small, leather-bound book filled with Trevor’s tight, neat handwriting. It was a complete record of his sins—a ledger of greed that detailed exactly how he had parsed out my hard-earned money while leaving our mother to starve.
"Thank you, Amanda," I said, taking the book. "Now get out of my sight."
