Chapter 8 - REBECCA SLOAN’S OFFER
Rebecca offered Claire a deal.
Not through prosecutors.
Civil.
Return both units.
Pay two million dollars.
Confidential settlement.
Claire brought the proposal to Nina and me.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Nina said:
“Financially? Strong.”
I said nothing.
Claire looked at me.
“You're doing the annoying thing.”
“What annoying thing?”
“Waiting for me to decide.”
“Yes.”
“I asked your opinion.”
“That’s different.”
I read the agreement.
Confidentiality clause.
No public admission.
Release of all civil claims.
No cooperation beyond what prosecutors compelled.
Rebecca wanted silence.
“What do you want?” I asked.
Claire groaned.
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“Still relevant.”
She looked toward Daniela sleeping beside her.
“I want the units back.”
“Okay.”
“I want enough money to cover legal expenses.”
“Reasonable.”
“And I want the other owners helped.”
Nina leaned forward.
“This settlement only covers you.”
“I know.”
Claire looked at the agreement.
“If I take two million and shut up, Rebecca gets exactly what she always paid people for.”
Silence.
“The right to make the problem private.”
She rejected the offer.
People called her foolish.
Two million dollars is persuasive to people not actually facing the choice.
Claire continued cooperating.
Federal prosecutors eventually secured plea agreements from Trevor, Nathan and Graham.
Vanessa pleaded guilty to kidnapping-related and fraud charges under a cooperation agreement.
Her sentence included incarceration.
Shorter because she cooperated.
Not erased.
Claire did not attend sentencing.
She sent a statement.
My sister is not a monster.
She is also not a victim of Rebecca Sloan.
She made choices.
I hope consequences help her become someone my daughter may safely know one day.
Not today.
Maybe someday.
That was all.
Rebecca went to trial.
She refused to plead.
Of course.
At trial, prosecutors presented ledgers, recordings, transfers and victim testimony.
I testified about the old Mayfield case.
Rebecca’s attorney tried to paint me as obsessed.
“Ms. Harper, isn't it true you've disliked Rebecca Sloan for almost twenty years?”
“Yes.”
That startled him.
“So this is personal?”
“No.”
“You just admitted dislike.”
“I dislike mosquitoes.”
The judge stared at me.
I continued.
“That does not mean I blame them for mortgage fraud.”
Several jurors smiled.
The attorney recovered.
“You suspected my client leaked information eighteen years ago but could not prove it.”
“Correct.”
“And now you believe she's a criminal.”
“No.”
He paused.
“A jury decides that.”
I looked toward Rebecca.
“I believe evidence exists.”
That was the difference between investigation and vengeance.
Rebecca glared.
The jury convicted her on most major counts.
Bank fraud.
Wire fraud.
Identity theft conspiracy.
Racketeering-related charges.
Her husband received a lesser sentence.
Graham too.
Trevor went to prison.
Bellwether Residential settled regulatory actions and replaced management.
Then came the civil restructuring.
A court-appointed receiver reviewed every Westbridge acquisition.
Owners or heirs received opportunities to challenge transfers.
Some got properties back.
Others received compensation.
Margaret Wells's son, Thomas, recovered additional money for her estate.
Ruth Alvarez got title restored.
Claire regained both units.
Then she did something I did not expect.
She sold the model apartment.
“To Bellwether?” I asked.
“No.”
“Who?”
“A nonprofit.”
“What nonprofit?”
“A housing organization for pregnant women leaving unsafe homes.”
I stared.
Claire smiled.
“They need office space and temporary apartments.”
“You're donating it?”
“Discounted sale.”
“Daniel wanted investment leverage.”
“Daniel told me to do whatever gave me peace.”
Fair enough.
She kept Unit 1108.
Rented it at below-market rate to a nurse with two children.
“Terrible capitalist,” I said.
“Learning from you.”
“I charge full rent on my condo.”
“Exactly.”
I liked Claire more every week.
One afternoon, she knocked on my door carrying Daniela.
“What?”
“I need help.”
I immediately became serious.
“With what?”
“Babysitting.”
I stared.
“You investigated financial crime for thirty-two years.”
“Yes.”
“You survived Rebecca Sloan.”
“Yes.”
“You can handle a five-month-old.”
“That conclusion is unsupported by evidence.”
She handed me the baby.
Then left before I could appeal.
Daniela stared at me.
I stared back.
“You and I need ground rules.”
She spit up on my shirt.
May you like
Negotiations failed.
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