Chapter 4: The Woman in Miami
Samantha stared at the message for a long moment.
*We need to talk.*
No name.
No context.
A number with a Miami area code.
She typed back: *Who is this?*
The reply came in under a minute.
*My name is Brittany.
I think you already know who I am.*
Samantha's hand tightened around the phone.
She walked to the kitchen, sat down, and made herself breathe before she typed again.
*How did you get this number?*
*Christian has your contact saved on his tablet.
He left it in the room when he went to the pool.
I wasn't looking for anything.
I just saw your name.*
Samantha read that sentence twice.
She wasn't looking for anything.
*What do you want, Brittany?*
There was a longer pause this time.
Then:
*I want to know if he told you about the apartment.
The one he said was going to be ours.*
The floor felt like it shifted slightly under Samantha's chair.
She called Rachel immediately.
"She reached out to me," Samantha said the moment Rachel picked up.
"Brittany.
She messaged me from Christian's tablet."
"What did she say?"
"She thinks the apartment is going to be hers.
He told her it was going to be theirs.
Together."
Rachel went quiet for a moment.
"Sam.
She doesn't know it belongs to you."
"No," Samantha said.
"She doesn't.
He told her he was leaving his wife in the fall and that the apartment would be sorted before then.
She thinks she's moving into a home he owns."
"He lied to both of you."
"Yes.
But in different directions." Samantha looked at the thread of messages still open on her screen.
"Rachel, I think I need to talk to her."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"She contacted me.
That means something.
She's either scared, or she's starting to suspect something is wrong." Samantha paused.
"Either way, she might know things I don't."
She called the Miami number.
Brittany picked up on the second ring.
Her voice was younger than Samantha had expected.
Careful.
Not aggressive.
"Thank you for calling," Brittany said.
"Tell me what he told you," Samantha said.
"All of it."
A short silence.
Then Brittany began.
Christian had told her he was in a marriage that had been over for years.
That he and his wife lived separate lives.
That the apartment was an investment property he managed, and that once the paperwork was finalized, he would sell it and they would use the money to start fresh together somewhere new.
"He said the sale was already arranged," Brittany said.
"He just needed his wife to sign a couple of documents when he got back.
He said she would.
He said she always did whatever he asked."
Samantha said nothing for a moment.
"He said that?"
"Yes." A pause.
"Is it true?
The apartment — is it really yours?"
"I bought it eleven years ago," Samantha said.
"Before I ever met him.
His name has never been on the deed."
The silence on the other end lasted a long time.
"He told me he owned it outright," Brittany said finally.
Her voice had changed.
Something had gone out of it.
"He showed me photos.
He said it was worth at least four hundred thousand."
"It's worth closer to five," Samantha said.
"And he was going to sell it for less than three.
Quickly.
Before anyone looked too closely."
Another silence.
"The money in the account," Brittany said slowly.
"The transfers every month.
He told me that was savings.
For us.
For our future."
"What account?" Samantha asked.
"He has an account.
Under a different name.
He said it was for tax reasons." Brittany's voice was very quiet now.
"I thought it was strange.
But he explained it and I believed him."
"Daniel Reyes," Samantha said.
The silence that followed told her everything.
"You already knew," Brittany said.
"I found out yesterday."
Another long pause.
When Brittany spoke again, her voice was steadier than Samantha expected.
"He's been lying to both of us," she said.
"Hasn't he."
It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Samantha said.
"The difference is, I'm the one he was planning to rob."
Brittany didn't answer right away.
Samantha could hear her breathing on the other end of the line.
"What are you going to do?" Brittany asked.
"I've already started," Samantha said.
"The question is whether you're willing to help."
May you like
The pause that followed was the longest yet.
Then Christian's key card beeped against the hotel room door.
