Page 36 of Riptide
Tom pulled up the second profile. A young woman, early thirties, dark hair, kind eyes. "Or this happens. Jessica Forsythe. Age thirty-two. Portland."
Cara's stomach dropped. She could tell by Tom’s tone this one was going to be ugly.
"She’s not our victim, directly." Tom's voice was flat. "She's the sister. Blaire located her brother, Shawn. This case is like Cara’s there was no client that I could find." He stopped. Started again. "Jessica's brother was Shawn Forsythe. Turns out, he was hiding from domestic violence charges filed by his ex-wife."
"False charges," Reagan added quietly. "We found the case records. The ex-wife later admitted she made it up during a custody dispute. But by then it was too late."
Tom pulled up a timeline. "Blaire found him. I found one record of fifteen thousand flowing out of Shawn Forsythe’s account and into hers. My guess is that was all he could scrape together because the next thing is this.” He put one of Blaire’s social posts up, a photo of a dark-eyed man with a great smile,his arms around two toddlers. The caption read: successfully reunited a family, another case closed.
He paused. "Two days later, Shawn Forsythe killed himself. He left a note saying he couldn't face what was coming. Couldn't handle the exposure."
The room went silent.
"Blaire killed him," Piper said. Her voice shook. "Maybe not directly, but she?—"
"She pushed him until he broke," Wade finished. "And then she moved on to the next victim."
Cara felt sick. "Did his family try to fight back? Sue her? Anything?"
"Jessica tried." Reagan pulled up legal documents. "She filed a wrongful death suit. Claimed Blair's actions directly led to Shawn's suicide. But Blair's lawyers buried it, threatening counter-suits for defamation, harassment, and emotional distress. The Forsythe family was already devastated and broke from legal fees. They dropped it."
"So she got away with it," Cara said.
"She always does." Tom closed that file, opened the third. "Which brings us to victim three. Daniel Whitmore. Age thirty-eight. Lives in Atlanta now. Was living in Miami when Blaire found him."
He pulled up the profile. Professional-looking man, confident smile. "Whitmore was a lawyer. Environmental law. Made good money, respected in his field."
"Let me guess," Wade said. "Then money from his account ended up in Blaire’s."
Tom snapped his fingers. “Three weeks after Blaire found him, Whitmore paid her thirty-five thousand dollars. Then another twenty thousand two months later. Then he resigned from his firm, and is now working as a paralegal in Atlanta making a fraction of what he used to."
"What did Blaire have on him?" Cara asked.
"We think it's his law license." Tom pulled up more data. "Can't confirm this, but there's a sealed disciplinary action from the Florida Bar from three years ago. Whitmore kept his license, but it looks like it was a close call. If he'd been disbarred, his career would be over."
"So Blaire probably found evidence of whatever got him in trouble," Reagan said. "Threatened to go public, maybe contact the Bar Association directly. He paid to keep it quiet."
"And then paid again when she came back for more," Wade added.
Tom leaned back. "These are our three. Latimer, Forsythe, and Whitmore. All paid Blaire significant amounts. All had their lives destroyed anyway. All still reachable."
"Why them specifically?" Cara asked. "What makes them better targets than the others you found?"
"Proximity for two of them," Reagan said. "Latimer and Forsythe are both in Portland. We can drive there, meet them face to face, see if they'll talk."
"And Whitmore?"
"He's across the country, so we'll have to do him by phone," Tom said. "But he's the most recent victim. Only ten months ago. His wounds are still fresh. He might be more willing to talk than someone who's spent years trying to forget."
"Plus," Wade added, "Forsythe's situation is unique. Her brother's suicide—that's not just financial ruin. That's a death. If we can get her to talk, if we can document what Blaire did to her family, that's manslaughter territory. Maybe even murder if we can prove Blaire knew Shawn was suicidal."
"That would actually get law enforcement interested," Reagan said. "Financial fraud is one thing. But a death? That changes everything."
Cara looked at the three faces on the screen. Three lives destroyed. Three people who'd paid everything they had and lost anyway.
She'd been where they were. Was still there, actually. Trapped by someone who knew her secrets. Someone who wouldn't stop squeezing until there was nothing left.
But she had something they hadn't had.
