Part 5: The Investigation Deepens
By the third day after the arrest, the financial puzzle of the Varrick family began to pieces itself together inside the precinct's file rooms. Because I had granted Miller full access to my personal investigations, the state attorneys were able to bypass the usual corporate stonewalling.
Adrian Varrick wasn't a criminal mastermind; he was a desperate gambler.
As the managing director of Varrick Shipping & Logistics, he had spent three years funneling company capital into high-risk offshore real estate developments in Eastern Europe. When those developments collapsed under a mountain of regulatory fines, he had turned to the family trusts. But Cordelia held the master keys to those trusts, and she had given him an ultimatum: clear the debt through a clean, corporate merger with a rival firm, or find a way to liquidate a massive personal asset.
I was that asset—or rather, my death was supposed to be.
"Look at this email chain from Adrian’s personal laptop," Miller said, dropping a fresh stack of printouts onto my lap during a afternoon visit to my temporary apartment.
"They were planning it since the summer," I said, the reality of the words chilling my blood despite my preparation. I had lived in that house for months, sleeping next to a man who was actively scheduling my termination with his mother over morning coffee.
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"Adrian’s legal team is already trying to cut a deal," Miller said, sitting across from me. "They are offering to testify against Cordelia in exchange for a reduction from attempted first-degree murder to conspiracy. He’s terrified of maximum security, Maren. He’s singing like a bird."
"No deals," I said firmly, my instincts as a prosecutor taking over. "Adrian was the one who hid my injector. He was the one who watched his mother pour scalding water on me while I couldn't move. His compliance is just as lethal as her action. We take them both to trial together. We don't let them split the blame."
