Chapter 13 - Beatriz’s Final Confession
Beatriz didn’t deny it.
That was the worst part.
I stood at the foot of her hospital bed while Detective Harper recorded.
“You called Celeste.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“You keep destroying lives for money and then acting surprised when people use the word cruel.”
She looked at Isabella’s empty visitor chair.
“I know what I am.”
“No, you know what consequences feel like.”
She nodded slowly.
“Elena told me she was leaving the office with the red box. Celeste offered me fifty thousand dollars for the route she would take home.”
“You gave it to her.”
“Yes.”
“Then you got in the car with her.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought we were going to scare Elena into stopping.”
“You thought wrong.”
“I know.”
Beatriz kept looking toward the door as if she expected Celeste to walk in and finish the conversation for her.
“She trained you to be afraid of her,” I said.
Beatriz gave a broken laugh.
“She trained everyone.”
“That doesn’t excuse what you did.”
“I know.”
“Then stop trying to earn forgiveness and tell the truth.”
She nodded.
For the next forty minutes she gave Harper names, payment dates, hotel meetings, burner phones, and the account Celeste used to pay her.
For once, the information did not make me feel victorious.
It made the conspiracy feel older. More organized.
Beatriz had not been a mastermind. She had been a willing tool inside a machine that had existed before she arrived.
Harper leaned forward.
“What happened after the crash?”
Beatriz described the same thing she told me before.
Celeste searching.
Elena bleeding.
The first 911 call.
Celeste taking the phone.
Then Harper asked one question that changed the room.
“Who canceled the call?”
Beatriz looked confused.
“Celeste.”
“No.”
Harper placed a report on the blanket.
“The call disconnected at 8:42. But at 8:50 someone unlocked Elena’s phone with her passcode and canceled the automatic emergency callback.”
Beatriz stared.
“I didn’t know that.”
“Celeste?”
“She had already left.”
“Mason?”
“He left with her.”
I felt cold.
“Then someone came back.”
Harper nodded.
“We found footage from a gas station across the highway.”
He opened a still image.
A dark figure stood beside Elena’s wrecked SUV eight minutes after Celeste’s car drove away.
The face was blurred.
But the coat was familiar.
Nora, standing beside me, stopped breathing.
I turned.
She whispered, “Gabriel.”
The woman in the image wore the same distinctive silver clasp Elena had given Nora for her fortieth birthday.
I looked at my wife’s best friend.
“You were there.”
Nora closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Every answer had led me to another person I trusted.
And now the woman helping me expose the truth had been standing beside Elena’s car while she died.
---
The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.
May you like
If you enjoyed the story, bookmark my site: https://vibe.treeiq.biz
New stories are posted daily, so check back for updates.
