He’d signed it himself. Under the magnolia tree. I’m marrying you for your pie crust.
When Madison’s attorney showed her the relevant pages of the prenup, Madison agreed to cooperate fully with investigators. She turned over every text. Every email. And a voicemail in which Richard told her, very plainly, that if the bank ever called with questions, she should describe the transfer as “an emergency company loan Claire already approved.”
He’d pulled his own daughter right into the middle of it.
And he’d expected her to absorb whatever came with it.
Madison called me once, after she’d started cooperating.
I answered, because Nina told me to. She told me to record the call, and not to discuss any of the specifics of the case.
Madison sounded younger on the phone than she had at the reunion. All the sharp confidence was gone. She sounded like the sixteen-year-old who’d cried on my shoulder at midnight.
