Chapter 7: The Woman Who Knew Too Much
Tasha agreed to meet us at a diner outside town.
She arrived early.
I knew because she kept looking at the door.
People who have been hurt by someone like Latoya learn to watch exits.
She was younger than I expected.
Early thirties.
Tired eyes.
A nervous habit of twisting her wedding ring.
When she sat down, she looked at me.
“I’m sorry.””
I almost smiled.
Everyone kept saying that.
Sorry.
A small word.
A heavy word.
“What happened to you?”” I asked.
She swallowed.
“Latoya destroyed my life.””
Brian leaned forward.
“How?””
Tasha looked around before speaking.
“She worked at a company that specialized in online marketing. But she wasn’t interested in products.””
“What was she interested in?”” Brian asked.
“People.””
The word made my stomach turn.
“She would find families with money problems. Families with old homes. Families where someone was vulnerable.””
I stared at her.
“Why?””
“Because vulnerable people are easier to control.””
Brian’s jaw tightened.
“Did she do this before?””
Tasha nodded.
“She did it to me.””
She pulled out her phone.
“I was engaged at the time.””
She showed us a picture.
A younger Tasha.
Happy.
Smiling.
“What happened?””
“Latoya became my friend.””
I closed my eyes.
The pattern.
The same pattern.
“She learned everything about me,” Tasha continued.
“My insecurities. My relationship problems. My family issues.””
“And then?””
“She started posting videos.””
Brian frowned.
“About you?””
“Yes.””
“What kind?””
Tasha looked ashamed.
“Videos where she made me look cruel.””
I understood immediately.
The editing.
The manipulation.
The story.
“She made people hate me,” Tasha whispered.
“How did you escape?””
Tasha looked down.
“I didn’t.””
Silence.
“I lost my job. My fiancé left me. My family stopped talking to me.””
Brian looked horrified.
“Why didn’t you report her?””
Tasha laughed sadly.
“I tried.””
“And?””
“Nobody believed me.””
That sentence hurt because I knew exactly what it felt like.
Not being believed.
Not being seen.
Tasha reached into her bag.
“I kept something.””
She placed a flash drive on the table.
“What is it?””
“Proof.””
Brian picked it up.
“Proof of what?””
“That Latoya has been doing this for years.””
The drive contained files.
Names.
Dates.
Videos.
Victims.
A pattern.
Melissa reviewed everything that night.
By morning, she called us.
“This is bigger than we thought.””
Brian rubbed his face.
“How big?””
“Latoya has been building online sympathy campaigns for years.””
I looked at the papers.
“She made a career out of hurting people.””
Melissa nodded.
“And Richard helped her because he saw an opportunity.””
“What opportunity?””
“The house.””
Everything came back to that.
The house.
The place James built.
The place they wanted.
The next day, Latoya requested a meeting.
I almost refused.
But Melissa told me something.
“If she wants to talk, let her.””
“Why?””
“Because people who think they are winning make mistakes.””
So I went.
The meeting room was small.
Cold.
Latoya sat across from me.
She looked different.
No makeup.
No perfect robe.
No camera.
Just a woman who finally had consequences.
But when she smiled, I saw the same person.
“Hi, Evelyn.””
I didn’t answer.
She leaned back.
“You must hate me.””
I looked at her.
“You chained me to a floor.””
Her expression barely changed.
“I made mistakes.””
“Mistakes?””
She sighed.
“You don’t understand pressure.””
I almost laughed.
“Pressure?””
“Yes.””
She looked at me.
“You have no idea what it’s like to build something online.””
There it was.
The excuse.
The justification.
“You destroyed people for attention.””
She shook her head.
“No. I told stories.””
“You lied.””
Her eyes hardened.
Then she leaned forward.
“Do you really want to know why I picked you?””
My heart stopped.
Because even after everything, part of me needed the answer.
“Why?””
She smiled.
“Because Richard told me you were easy.””
I felt the room shift.
“Richard?””
“Yes.””
Her smile grew.
“He said your son was emotional. He said you were loyal. He said you would never fight back.””
My hands curled into fists.
“He was wrong.””
Latoya looked at me.
For the first time, uncertainty appeared on her face.
Then she whispered:
“Maybe.””
She leaned closer.
“But you still don’t know the biggest secret.””
I stared at her.
“What secret?””
May you like
Her smile returned.
“The house was never the real reason Richard wanted you gone.””
