The Queen's Pawn

Trigger warnings: murder (discussed and investigated), false accusation/wrongful conviction, psychological manipulation, betrayal by trusted friend, emotional abuse/gaslighting, grief and loss, strong/explicit language, financial fraud/forgery

Once I started digging, it became easy to find out who really betrayed me.

For so long I denied the fact that someone so close to me could do something so evil.

But that was all in the past now.

Every memory and every carefully crafted facade faded into the background as I slowly began to realize that she'd been playing this game for years before I even entered it.

I sat, waiting in the lobby for her assistant to come and get me. I fiddled with the bag that held all the evidence I’d ever need.

The evidence that proved she was the one that did this.

She was the one who blamed me in the end.

Heels clicking on the marble floors snapped me out of my train of thought.

“Lorraine, Vivian is ready for you,” Jessica, Viv’s assistant, greeted me with the same warm smile she always did when I visited the office. She couldn’t be older than twenty-eight, with long brown hair that came down past her waist, and a beautiful face. I’d always liked her, for a second I thought it was sad how she didn’t know who her boss really was.

Or maybe she did and chose to keep her head down.

Then again, how could I even judge the girl? I went blind, too, and for a lot longer.

I gave her a smile and grabbed the bag full of documents and followed her to Vivian’s office. We walked in silence for a little while until curiosity got the better of me.

“Hey, Jessica, you’ve been working for Viv for a while, haven’t you?” I asked, seeming curious.

She smiled sweetly in my direction and then looked back towards where she was walking, “It’ll be seven years in May, why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” I said. “So you were around when Robert passed?”

Jessica slowed her steps until she came to a complete stop and looked around the office to see if there was anyone listening before she spoke again, “Yes, it was a tragic time for both the company and Vivian.”

She did not make eye contact with me, she kept her eyes surveying the office as if making sure no one was listening to the conversation at hand, “Vivian doesn’t like anyone to talk about it in the office. She forbid it.”

“Do you ever wonder why?” I asked, lowering my voice and taking a step closer to her.

She looked at me, but she didn't say anything. She just nodded, turned around and continued back on our path to the office where the great Vivian Di Lacrue awaited my arrival.

Vivian had been my friend for the last twelve years, and now I was confronting her about murdering her husband and framing me. Even though she stood by my side through all the trials, because in her own words, “There is no possible way my best friend would hurt someone I love so much.”

Mere months ago, if someone had accused Vivian, I would have laughed in their face. I would have said that there was no possible way that she could have been the one to do the dirty work, to put the blame on someone she cares about, to then go about every day like it pains her to even hear the name Robert in a conversation. But was it only hurting her because it reminded her of what she had done?

My thoughts kept teetering back and forth between who I once knew and who I’d learned she really was.

And the only thing I wanted to know out of this entire interaction that was about to happen?

Why?

Why frame me?

Why kill her husband?

Why do any of it at all?

Vivian had the life any woman could dream of at the time. A devout and loving husband, a business that they started together and grew into something so much bigger than they could have imagined. They had the money to buy every single one of their vacation homes, the lavish trips, the jewelry, the cars.

Vivian had it all.

We approached the office door that was closed and had a plaque that stated: CEO Vivian Di Lacrue.

Jessica knocked on the door twice.

A muffled, “Come in!” came from the other side and Jessica promptly moved out of the way and let me walk into the office alone.

“Finally! Someone with some sense has entered the building! You would not believe the phone call I just got off of. Would you believe that the Martin’s are selling their business but they seem to think they’re worth way more than they actually are. You should see the numbers they want compared to what they actually bring in, it’s ridiculous.” Vivian shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing as she did.

Everything about Viv is prim, proper, meticulously made up to look like perfection in every light at every possible angle. Her makeup was subtle, if I didn’t know her then I’d think that this was how she woke up every day. Her nails were always kept clean, manicured, and short with a French-tip polish. Her hair was kept in a short bob and it fell in perfect blonde ringlets around her face, making her seem so much younger than she actually was.

A true perfectionist.

My face must have given my inner thoughts away because her brows scrunched together, distorting her flawless features, “What’s wrong? Sit, spill. Tell me everything.”

I still didn’t say anything as I closed the door behind me and sat in one of the large chairs across from her. I must have looked really pale because the second I sat down she stood up and crossed over to where I was and now sat in the chair next to me, cupping my hand in hers.

All I could do was look at them.

In the past when she would do this it was comforting. Almost, motherly in a way. Something I didn’t have much of. Vivian’s only four years older than I am but the way she’s always carried herself has made her seem older than she was. She’d always taken me in when I needed help, never judged me for not having the life she did. She was just my friend.

My best friend.

I looked down at our hands and I couldn’t believe that the person who was holding my hand could be pretending. That she’d been lying to everyone.

To me.

“I’ve been doing some digging,” I finally said, my voice cracked.

“Into what, Lor?” her voice was laced with concern.

“Rob’s death,” I whispered.

Silence stretched between the two of us for a moment before she opened her mouth to respond. As if she were scrambling, trying to find the right words to say and then finally giving up on the nice ones.

“I thought you were over that,” she sighed.

“You buried your husband,” I snapped. “How can you be? How does it not bother you all the time that we never found out who it was?”

She sighed again, taking her hand from mine, she shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess I’ve forgiven them for it.”

“Forgiven? How–” I tried to level myself and not burst into a fit of anger, “How could you forgive someone for something like that?” I looked up at her, her face didn’t show a single sign of remorse, regret, or even grief.

She looked peaceful.

“I don’t know,” she threw a hand in the air as if swatting a fly away. “I guess, it’s not really forgiving, it’s just coming to terms that we’ll probably never find out who it was. That something really terrible happened to us, for some unknown reason, and now, by the grace of God, we’re all out of it. So, I guess I’ve just moved on. I’ve also seen a therapist about it, something you should probably–”

“Rob didn’t get out of it.”

“No, he didn’t,” she looked down at her hands, trying to play it off as if she was regretful of her wording. As if I’m the deranged widow and she was the loving friend there to support me in my time of need.

Like I should have been for her.

“I found out who did it.” I didn’t look at her, I kept my eyes locked on the notepad that was left out on her desk.

Vivian blinked, then laughed softly.

My jaw clenched at the sound.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see her shaking her head, “Come on, Lor.”

I almost didn’t want to go through with what I was about to say but I needed to see her reaction. I needed to know why she did it.

“It was pretty easy, once I stopped putting my emotions first and started looking at the facts,” I paused and looked at her, her face still wearing a small sympathetic smile. “What was tripping me up was where I fell into all of it.”

I reached for the bag and pulled out all of the documents that I’d gathered, every one pointing straight to her. I plopped it all in her lap with a thud.

“What’s all this?” she asked, her brows pinched together as she started thumbing through it all.

“Proof.”

“Proof of what exactly?” her voice had gotten low as she thumbed through the files reading each label.

“Bank statements, Rob’s life insurance policy, his will, time stamps, dates, names, signatures,” I listed things off one by one. “It’s been six years and I haven’t stopped digging since. That is every single thing that I found in that time.”

She paused and read one of the documents in a folder labeled ‘accounts’ and then closed it, looking back at me, her composure back to its usual relaxed and stoic nature, “Do you even know how to read these statements, Lor? I couldn’t even if I tried, that’s why I have lawyers, accountants and financial advisors do the work for me. Why are you showing me all of this anyway?”

I looked away from her and found her notepad on the desk and zeroed in on it as I tried to focus on the next words that were going to come out of my mouth. Looking at her would only make this harder, because it was still hard for me to believe it was true at all.

“As I said, I found out who it was. I planned to confront them today with all the evidence and to ask them why,” I said firmly.

“You shouldn’t be confronting anyone, Lor. Why don’t I give these files to my lawyers and have them look them over first before you start doing anything rash?” she placed her hand over my forearm and gave it a small squeeze before pulling away.

For a moment, I think she’s right. But then I remember that I have been talking to lawyers, my own lawyers and accountants, and financial advisors and personal investigators. People who aren’t getting a paycheck from Vivian.

“It’s too late for rash decisions, Vivian.”

I took a deep breath and let it out.

“The insurance beneficiary changed one month before the murder.”

Another breath.

“It wasn’t Rob’s signature.”

I saw the wheels start turning faster in Vivian’s mind then. I could tell by the way her body stiffened beside me, she went from slouching and leaning over in my direction to sitting straight up like someone had driven a board down her spine.

She picked up the pile of files in her lap and sat them on the desk as she stood and faced me, “Lorraine, Rob and I did that together. You can ask the lawyers yourself. I was there when he signed it.”

“I know you were there.”

Disbelief flooded her features now as she crossed her arms across her chest, “So, I'm the one you were confronting today, you think that I killed Rob? How could you think such a thing? I loved him with all of my heart. And you? Y-you’re my best friend, why would I do that to the two most important people in my life?” Vivian’s voice was soft, almost like she was hurt.

“That’s actually exactly why I came here instead of the police,” I stood and dusted my pants.

“You were going to go to the police?” I could tell that she was starting to get scared, the way she started to raise her voice half an octave was always a dead giveaway.

“Yes, but then I started wondering: why?” I crossed my arms and looked her square in the eyes.

“Lorraine, I stood by your side during the trial. I’ve helped you in times of need. I’ve gotten you jobs, helped with your bills. We’ve gone on family vacations together for years. I’ve given you things that money can’t buy, my own friendship. Why are you doing this?” her face was scrunched up like she was in pain, like she wanted to cry but no tears were forming in her eyes.

“You killed Rob, Vivian, you framed me. All I want to know is why.”

“I haven’t done anything. I never would have done that!”

“Why should I believe you?” I barked at her. “Why should I believe anything that comes out of your mouth? It’s all been a lie from day one. You’ve been using me since then. You had those plans to kill Robert long before you even knew about my existence but once I showed up it was clear to you that was the plan. And then when it didn’t go as you thought, you just kept up the facade of best friends.”

“Lorraine,” was all she could say, her voice strained.

“It’s fine. You can look through those if you want,” I gestured towards the stack of files on her desk, “they’re your copies anyway so you can do whatever with them. Read them, burn them, use them to make paper planes for all I care.” I shrugged and started walking toward the door.

“One last thing, Viv.”

Her eyes moved from the documents to mine, the look of pure terror warping her visage. It’s not a look I’ve ever seen on her before.

“I hope you burn in hell for what you’ve done.”

Just then I saw on her face everything that I needed to see. All the answers I needed to know didn’t matter.

“Whoever you were working with told you exactly what you wanted to hear, you just want someone to blame for it all.”

“I thought I found a friend in you, Vivian. You used me so you wouldn’t get caught. And for what? You didn’t want to share the money with your husband that would have given you anything you asked for?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lorraine.”

“Don’t I?” I said, pointing to the files on the desk again.

She eyed them and looked back at me with an evil glare in her eye, “Not even the slightest.”

“Enlighten me, after all, that’s why I came here. To hear you out. To hear why.”

She just stared at me with the same disgusting, monstrous expression.

“Let me know if you hear the bells echoing on the way down,” I said as I turned to grab the door handle. “Although, you probably won’t be able to reach me.”

I heard a frustrated scream come from behind me before I heard the feet pounding on the floor beneath me.

She charged at me.

Just as she did, I tugged the door open and moved out of the way.

Jessica had been standing behind the door the whole time, her face now filled with shock and panic as she quickly took several steps out of the way of a falling Vivian.

I shuffle through the doorway quickly and make my way to the exit.

Vivian now a heap on the ground in front of Jessica, “You ungrateful fucking bitch, get back here!”

“Oh… my God,” was the last thing I heard coming from Jessica as I waltzed out of the office and into the busy streets filled with people that have no idea what I’ve discovered.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks that had escaped without me knowing as I had walked to my car. In the passenger seat was another bag filled with all the same documents I’d just given Vivian.

Next stop: the police.