Chapter 7: Derek Fights Back
Diane called me at noon.
"Patricia cooperated fully," she said.
"She gave a recorded statement this morning.
She confirmed Derek told her you had consented to the policy.
She signed the initial application but says she was not shown the medical declaration page.
She had no knowledge the doctor's license was invalid."
"Do you believe her?"
"Her confusion was genuine.
And frankly, it helps your case more than it hurts hers." A pause.
"The fraud division has opened a formal investigation.
They're pulling Derek's full client history.
Renata submitted her documents an hour ago."
I was standing at the kitchen counter.
The apartment felt different without Derek's things in it.
Quieter.
Larger.
"What does Derek know?" I asked.
"He knows enough," Diane said.
"He called my office this morning.
He said he wants to negotiate."
"Negotiate what?"
"He's offering to drop any counter-claims against you in exchange for you withdrawing the police report and signing a non-disclosure agreement."
I set my coffee down.
"He wants me to stay quiet."
"Yes.
He also said—" Diane's voice was careful— "that if you don't agree, he'll make sure the divorce proceedings become very expensive and very public.
He mentioned your employment.
He said he has information about financial irregularities at your workplace that he would be willing to share with your employer."
My hands went still.
"That's a threat," I said.
"It's also potentially extortion," Diane said.
"I recorded the call with his consent, as required.
He doesn't know I flagged it for the fraud investigator."
I exhaled slowly.
"He's panicking."
"He is.
But panicking people do unpredictable things.
I want you to be careful." A beat.
"He also asked where you were staying."
"You didn't tell him."
"Of course not.
But Skylar — he's going to try something before this goes further.
I'd like you to be somewhere he can't find easily for the next few days."
I thought about Mrs.
Calloway across the hall.
I thought about the chain lock I had installed on the apartment door the morning after Derek left.
Then my phone buzzed with a second call.
Unknown number.
"Diane, hold on."
I switched over.
"Skylar." Derek's voice.
Smooth, the way it always was when he wanted something.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot."
"You threw coffee at me, Derek."
"I lost my temper.
I'm not proud of it.
But you have to understand — you've been shutting me out for months.
Treating my family like they're beneath you.
A man can only take so much."
"Is that what you're planning to tell the judge?"
A pause.
"I'd rather not involve a judge.
I'd rather we handle this like adults." His voice dropped slightly.
"I know about the Renata call.
I know she spoke to you.
Whatever she told you, she's a disgruntled employee.
She was passed over for a raise six months ago.
She has an axe to grind."
"She has documents, Derek."
Silence.
"Drop the report," he said.
"Walk away clean.
I'll give you the apartment.
No contest.
You keep everything." Another pause, softer now.
"I still care about you, Skylar.
I don't want to see you get hurt in a long court battle."
"You burned my face."
"I know." His voice shifted again.
Quieter.
"And I'm sorry.
I am.
But if you push this, I will push back.
I have people who will say things about you that you won't be able to undo.
Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
I switched back to Diane.
"Did you get that?" I asked.
May you like
"Every word," she said.
"I'll have it to the investigator within the hour."
