Chapter 29
29
Sophie
W ithin a blink of my father’s nasty accusation, Agent Terrell inserts himself into my father’s personal space. Honestly, I’m beginning to like this guy more and more.
“As I warned you in the hall, Mr. Wilder, you can either behave in a reasonable and respective manner, or you can join your son in custody on a charge of disorderly conduct. I won’t ask a third time. Are you clear on the expectations?”
By the way my father’s wiry gray hair sticks up like the tail feathers on an unhinged rooster, I can tell he’s in no mood to be trifled with. But Agent Terrell looks about as interested in my father’s opinion as I am in making friends with the headscarf lady at the front desk.
“I’m clear,” my father mutters.
“Good, then I’m going to suggest we relocate to a conference room better suited to fit the needs of your family. Please refrain from any conversation until I’ve secured us behind a closed door.”
We all nod our agreement, even my sour-faced father.
Agent Terrell certainly knows how to command a room.
“Thank you, Agent Terrell.” My mother steps out from around my father’s back for the first time. “As you can imagine, Jasper’s call to us came as quite a shock. We’re just trying to get some answers on what exactly happened.”
“I understand.” He dips his chin, opens the door, and gives us a non-verbal cue to follow the leader. We walk single file to a room on the back side of the station. Upon entering, I note the fifty percent increase in furniture, including a long conference table with cushioned chairs and a slight upgrade to the dingy white walls.
These walls are painted the shade of a medical bandage.
Natalie takes a seat next to me and across from my parents. I don’t miss the way she keeps her gaze low. I understand her trepidation; I’ve lived it. But whatever tensions I felt growing up in a home with Jasper as my older brother pale in comparison to what she must have dealt with as his wife. If I could go back in time, I would step in so much sooner. I would ask more questions. I would listen to her voice the way I wished someone would have listened to mine. But unlike me, Natalie didn’t have an exit plan the minute she became a legal adult. She was sold a lie, and she’s suffered because of it ever since.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wilder,” Agent Terrell begins as he situates himself at the head of the table, a fact that must irk my father to no end. He hates losing control. “As I explained to you previously, your son was arrested on multiple charges—”
“I’d like to speak to my son,” my dad grounds out in a somewhat restrained tone.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
My father starts to stand. “Then who do I see about paying his bail and getting him out of this hellhole?”
“He’s not here, Mr. Wilder. He’s in federal custody. His bail won’t be decided until after his arraignment, roughly forty-eight hours from now.”
“Federal?” Mom gasps.
“Art fraud is a felony, Mother,” I explain. “And like Agent Terrell said, fraud is not the only charge Jasper faces.” Given that I was brought into a limited circle of trust due to Natalie’s involvement in the investigation, I don’t know what all I’m allowed to say. But repeating the agent’s earlier statements in a way my mother might hear them seems harmless enough.
“But this has to be a mistake,” my mother implores. “Jasper is a successful businessman and an esteemed leader in our industry. He and his wife have a beautiful marriage and a beautiful home.” She turns her heartbroken gaze on Natalie. “They don’t lack for anything. The family trust has always provided everything they could possibly need. Isn’t that right, Natty? Tell him.”
When my sister-in-law remains silent, Agent Terrell steps up in her defense once again. I wonder if this is the typical level of kindness he shows for an informant or if he’s simply exceptional at his job. “With all due respect, ma’am, money is rarely the only motivating factor in crimes of this caliber.”
“But then what could possibly be—”
“Say nothing more, Anita. I’m texting our lawyer,” my father scolds, pulling out his phone and finger-pecking at the screen.
“He’s guilty.” Natalie’s verdict reverberates inside the room. “Your son is guilty of every charge he’s being held for tonight and many others he’ll never be convicted of.”
“You can’t possibly mean that.” My father lowers his phone and peers at his daughter-in-law as if she’s lost all her senses. “How much did you have to drink at that party tonight?”
But just as I start to come to her defense, my mother asks, “What other crimes? What are you talking about, Natty?”
Natalie’s eyes soften as her gaze lingers on my mother, and I can almost see the vulnerable teenager she was when she first came into our family’s life as Jasper’s girlfriend. She didn’t grow up with a mother, and her connection to mine was as effortless as her connection to my brother. Her voice turns pleading. “I’m saying your son is not who you think he is, Anita. He’s worked hard to convince you and everyone else that—”
“Stop this right now.” My father slams a hand on the table. “Jasper has n ot been convicted of a thing yet, and we will not respond as if he has, Anita. Our job is to defend him, to protect him. We are his parents .”
“You are my parents, too.” My declaration is raw but strong. “And yet I never once felt defended or protected by either one of you, not even when I was the victim of a crime that happened on your property.”
“ Sophie .” My mom’s voice quavers as if she can’t believe I would bring that up at a time like this. But denial can only last so long.
“This is not the same.” My father shakes his head. “That investigation was dismissed on lack of evidence.”
“Because you dismissed it. Because you refused to take the investigation to the next level and pay out of your own pocket. Because you told the detective I was nothing more than a dramatic attention-seeker who had likely staged the entire event.” I watch as my father’s lips pull tight. “I heard you. I heard you on the phone with him.”
My mother covers her mouth. “Ronald?”
“That’s ... that’s ... there were other considerations. Factors outside of that phone call.”
“You’re right, there were.” I stare into my father’s eyes. “The first being that Jasper’s word always took precedence over mine.”
My father throws up his hands. “Do you really think this is the time to bring up every childhood woe?”
I eye Natalie, and she gives me a nod. It’s all the permission I need to continue. “He lied to you about that night.”
“What night?” my dad has the audacity to ask.
“The night he and his buddy broke into the tasting room, stole your prized wine, and locked your only daughter in a dark cellar for a day and a half. All so he could pay off his business professor at Stanford,” I say.
“That’s not true. He was with Natalie that weekend at a ski resort. The police verified their story.”
“He wasn’t with me. I covered for him,” Natalie says with so much remorse my eyes sting. “I’ve been covering for him for a long time.”
My dad shifts in his seat, and an uncomfortable silence fills the room. He glances down at his phone. “Our lawyer is on his way.”
“That’s it?” I insist. “That’s all you have to say? Your son robbed you and deceived you and—”
“I won’t believe that!” he fires off at Natalie and me. “I don’t know why you two have decided to fabricate such a tale against him or why you’ve chosen to be disloyal to your family, but I won’t stand for it. You hear me? I won’t stand for it .” He bangs the table with a closed fist, sending Natalie’s water bottle tumbling off the far edge.
“Careful, Mr. Wilder,” Agent Terrell warns as he pushes back from the table to retrieve Natalie’s water.
“This is why I left home at eighteen,” I appeal to my mother. “This is why I forfeited the trust payout and the college plans and a future at the winery. This is why I chose to fly three thousand miles away from home. I have spoken the words of a hundred different characters on stage, but I’ve only recently found a voice of my own.” My lips quiver as she locks eyes with me. “It’s not too late for you to find yours.”
My dad grips my mom’s arm, but her eyes remain on me, unfocused and yet laser focused at the same time. “Anita, listen to me, honey. The two of us need to remain a united front when the lawyer gets here. We know our son—I’ve apprenticed him since he was thirteen. If he was capable of any of these things, I would know it. You would know, too. You’re his mother.” The wrinkle between my mother’s eyebrows deepens. “He wouldn’t throw away the life we built for him for a life of crime.”
My mother is unresponsive to my father’s impassioned words, and I wonder where her mind has taken her.
“My lawyer will demand to see proof of these allegations,” my father directs at Agent Terrell, and I don’t miss the desperate agitation in his voice. “I, for one, won’t be leaving here until I see evidence of his crimes with my own eyes.”
“Evidence?” Natalie asks in a tone that sends goose bumps down my arms. “Are you certain that’s what you want, Mr. Wilder?”
“ Of course that’s what I want.”
Agent Terrell shifts his attention to our side of the table and speaks Natalie’s name with a softness that both intrigues and surprises me.
Yet, she is not deterred.
“Here’s your evidence.” She pushes away from the table and teeters slightly on her feet. Every muscle in my body tenses as she smooths the sparkly red tulle around her midsection to reveal the half-melon bump underneath. “This baby is not a product of two consenting, committed adults in a loving marriage. He was conceived out of coercion and manipulation—all orchestrated by the same man who refused to give up his one-night stands.” There’s venom in her voice when she speaks again. “So no, Anita, the family trust did not provide everything I needed. I needed help. I needed support. I needed someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy and to stick around long enough to see the monster he really is behind closed doors.” She turns to my father now. “He used me and tried to make me an accomplice in his art scheme, and if not for the help of Agent Terrell, I, too, would be in a holding cell tonight.” She steels herself. “I will testify against your son in court, and I will pray for justice to be served. And if, after all of this, you still plan to defend him and throw your money at a lawyer who will partner with his deceptions, then please believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to keep my baby far away from his only set of grandparents.”
Head held high, Natalie yanks open the door and exits the room. Agent Terrell follows soon after. But I hesitate, momentarily torn by the shame and devastation that hovers over this table like a storm cloud. My father’s face falls slack and ashen while my mother weeps into her hands. But there is no muffling the sound of heartbreak.
For all the offenses committed against me in my youth, my earlier feelings of justification are sidestepped by empathy. I spent most of my childhood isolated in my pain, wishing I had someone to confide in, wishing my parents would see the truth. But perhaps the bigger truth is this: None of us have been spared from the tangled web of my brother’s sins.
“I’m sorry,” I say gently. “I’m sorry you’re both suffering from the choices Jasper’s made and the people he’s hurt. And I’m sorry he’s not the son you believed him to be.” My mother’s sobs rack her slender frame, and I want nothing more than to take away her pain. But instead, I pray that somehow God will use it. That He will bring purpose to this heartbreak in ways I cannot fathom. “This doesn’t have to be the end of your story—or our family’s story.” I swallow the climbing tears in my throat. “And I sincerely hope it isn’t.”
When neither of them replies, I slowly push away from the table. “I’m taking Natalie home so she can rest.”
And then I go in search of a woman who needs a family more now than ever before.