Chapter 8 - The Prosecutor's VisitA tall, sharp-eyed woman in a charcoal business suit stepped out of the rear seat of the sedan, carrying a heavy leather briefcase.
It was District Attorney Evelyn Reed—the chief prosecutor for the state's special victims and public corruption unit, a woman famous for dismantling high-profile political networks across the state.
Alex stepped down off the porch, his posture instinctively shifting into an alert, military stance, while I pulled my wool blanket closer around my shoulders.
"Mr. Vance, Mrs. Montgomery," DA Reed said, stepping up the wooden porch stairs and offering a firm, professional handshake. "Thank you for seeing me on short notice."
"Please, sit down, Ms. Reed," I offered, gesturing to the rustic wooden bench beside me. "Can I offer you some cider?"
"I'm fine, thank you, Claire," Reed said, sitting down and opening her briefcase. "I wanted to deliver this news to you personally before the official press conference at four o'clock."
She pulled out a sealed blue folder bearing the gold seal of the State Supreme Court.
"An hour ago, the grand jury returned a thirty-two-count true bill against Trent Montgomery, Richard Montgomery, Helen Montgomery, and Nicole Montgomery," Reed announced, her voice calm, precise, and absolute.
I took a deep breath. "What are the specific charges?"
"For Trent: attempted murder in the first degree, aggravated battery of a pregnant person, and felony child endangerment," Reed listed. "For Helen: felony solicitation to commit aggravated battery and accomplice liability. For Richard: felony accessory, witness intimidation, and three counts of corporate bank fraud. And for Nicole: felony recording of an unlawful violent act and two counts of money laundering."
"Are they taking plea deals?" Alex asked from the railing.
"Richard’s lawyers attempted to negotiate a plea that would drop the assault charges in exchange for full cooperation on the financial fraud," Reed said, a cold, sharp smile touching her lips. "I denied it. We are going to trial on every single count."
She looked directly into my eyes, her expression softening into genuine, human respect.
"Claire, your live-streamed testimony and the forensic data your team submitted didn't just give us a conviction; it shattered a twenty-year protection racket inside the municipal courts. Two judges who routinely dismissed domestic complaints against local developers have resigned under federal investigation this morning."
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes—not tears of sorrow, but tears of deep, overwhelming validation.
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"Will I have to testify at the trial?" I asked softly.
"If they proceed to trial, yes," Reed nodded. "But given the strength of the video evidence and the federal financial convictions already mounting, their defense team will likely break before the jury selection is completed. They have nowhere left to run."
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