Chapter 22 #2
“But you work as a certified financial planner, right? That’s part of your job, right?”
Caldas interrupted then. “This is bordering on harassment.”
“Apologies, Margie. I hope you didn’t feel harassed.” Cash scooched her chair a little farther back with a friendly smile. “Willy’s mental state wasn’t so good, was it?”
“No. He really struggled with his mental health.”
“He probably wouldn’t notice if something was off about his financial records, right?”
“Yes, and that’s why I was helping him. He wanted to keep everything confidential. He made me promise.”
“What did he want to keep confidential?”
Colcord leaned forward now. He was on Margie’s left; Cash was on her right.
She looked a little like a trapped animal from where Paul was seated.
Paul’s hands were clutched on the edges of the metal chair.
He wanted to launch himself from the chair, to stop this interrogation.
But he remembered what Caldas had said: Don’t interfere.
Colcord spoke, his voice low. “There are some things that just need to be cleared up here. I think you’re a very good lady—-”
“I try, I try—-” Margie laughed, but it was forced.
“A God--fearing woman who’s dedicated to the church. And you know sometimes everybody has a breaking point and makes bad decisions.… Well. Some of these records that we’ve been looking at, I think …” Colcord sighed, looking troubled. “I think you’re aware of why we’re here.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I think you know what we’re talking about,” Colcord repeated.
“Get to your point, Sheriff. She’s not a mind reader,” Caldas snapped.
“Sure.” Cash slid a sheaf of paper over to Margie. Paul recognized it as the bank statements showing the outflow of cash to Paradox. Caldas had prepared them for this. Margie and Caldas read it in turn.
Caldas threw the paper back on the table. “We know all about these transactions. Tell Agent Cash about what these transactions are.” A slight emphasis on the agent part, as if to remind Margie that these were officers of the law.
“I made a promise to Willy not to talk about these.”
“Willy’s gone,” said Colcord. “And we need to know.”
“They’re …” Margie collected herself. Paul hoped she remembered what they had practiced over their Zoom calls.
“They’re donations I was making on behalf of Willy Grooms. There was an organization that he was supporting.
… It’s called Paradox. He never told me what the organization was, or what the money was for.
But he promised it was for a worthwhile cause.
He asked me to make these donations on his behalf.
The reason I transferred the money into my account and then out again was because Willy asked me to do it that way.
He was a little paranoid—-but he’s my client, so I did what he asked me to do. ”
“And are there any written records of these requests?” Colcord asked.
“Well, no.… We talked about it in person. But it’s not like I was keeping all the money; I was transferring it back out to Paradox.”
“The Brooksfield Ranch,” Cash said, “was struggling recently, isn’t that right?”
“We have our ups and downs, like any business.”
Cash pulled a few more papers from the stack in front of her and slid them across, tapping a forefinger on some lines. “Looks like you had some heavy medical expenses too—-your daughter—-Lolly, I believe?—-has Turner syndrome. Looks like you went into the red here, isn’t that right?”
“The insurance … wouldn’t pay,” Margie said. “She had to have heart surgery, and they wouldn’t pay.”
“I don’t see what this has to do with anything,” Caldas said.
“They’re just questions.” Colcord nodded at Cash to continue.
“Looks like you were late on some payments but then used part of the transfer from Willy Grooms’s account to pay off those bills, right? See this sum here?”
“Well, yes. Willy paid me for my services. I transferred what he instructed over to Paradox, retaining the remuneration we both agreed upon for my services.”
“Do you have invoices for those services?”
“No, like I said. We handled all these transactions verbally, in person. Willy didn’t want anything put down in writing. But I have a list of payments.”
“But no records. You agree that as a certified financial planner, it’s pretty important to keep records, right?” Cash raised her eyebrows.
“Don’t answer that,” Caldas said.
“When you do the math, looks like you retained the sum of $220,000 with those last transfers. Is that what you agreed on with Willy?”
“The insurance company wouldn’t pay.”
“But did Willy agree on that sum?”
“I … borrowed the money. I was going to pay it back.”
“You borrowed the money. Without Willy’s knowledge?”
Margie said nothing. Paul stared at her, confused. Borrowed the money? That wasn’t what she’d told him. They had gone through an awful time with the insurance company and in the end never got reimbursed. They said the surgery was “elective.”
“I was going to pay it back …,” she said.
“So you borrowed the money from Willy, without his knowledge.”
Margie didn’t speak.
“We also found this.” Cash slid over the document Romanski had found in the cabin.
Paul craned his neck to see what it was. Margie took it up and began to read it. Her hand began to tremble.
Cash continued, “Margie, I know this is tearing you up because you’re a good person.
I know you wouldn’t normally do something like this.
I think you were just pushed to the brink.
The ranch was struggling. You weren’t just broke, you were almost bankrupt.
You had medical bills. You and your kids didn’t deserve that; nobody does.
Willy didn’t need the money, right? He didn’t have bills to pay.
That’s why you took almost a quarter million dollars. And then there’s that.”
“Hang on a second—-” Caldas snatched the paper from Margie and began to read it. “You can’t ambush my client with new evidence during questioning.”
“We sent it to your email this morning,” Colcord said mildly.
Cash ignored her, continuing, “You couldn’t take it anymore.
That’s why I’m giving you this chance. People are going to look at this and say, ‘You know what? She made a mistake, but she owned up to it.’ ” She paused.
“Or are you going to be the person who comes in here and doesn’t tell the whole truth—-and people are going to say, ‘Well, she’s not as good a person as we thought she was’? ”
Margie shrank back, looking panicked. “I—-”
“Don’t answer that,” Caldas interjected quickly, holding the paper up. “Where did you get this?”
Cash continued in the same forceful voice, “Here’s your opportunity to explain, Margie.
We’re talking at least a few million dollars.
That’s a lot of money. It would do a lot of good for your kids and pay off the medical bills.
I can understand the pressure you were under.
” Cash leaned in, stabbing her finger at the paper.
“That’s Willy’s last will and testament, and guess who’s getting all his money.
You. There are a few million still in his bank account.
Did you kill Willy Grooms for this inheritance? ”
“I—-I had no idea—-I’ve never seen that—-he never said—-”
“You had no idea? But, Margie, look here, look at the signature of the person who witnessed this document—-you. You signed this! And now you’re telling us you’ve never seen it, had no idea?”
Margie stood up abruptly, sending her chair tumbling.
“This interview is terminated,” said Caldas in a fury. “This is an ambush. You’ll be lucky if any of that makes it into court.”
Margie was already on her way out of the room. Paul jumped up and followed her out into the hall, where she had come to a halt, head in her hands, sobbing. “He never told me …,” she sobbed. “I never knew … He had me witness and sign all kinds of nonsense.… I was just trying to help.”
Caldas came out, her face dark. She was angry.
She took Margie’s arm roughly. “Let’s go.
Now,” she said, and began to steer her down the hall.
Paul, in a panic, followed, and then as they were about to exit the double doors, he glanced back.
Cash and Colcord had come out of the room and were standing in the hall, both with triumphant, almost giddy looks on their faces, which frightened Paul almost more than anything that had happened in the room.