“Maybe fifteen or twenty conversations. She called me constantly after that lunch.”
“Play me the one where she’s talking to Patricia. The one from last week.”
Kevin pulled up his phone, found the file, and hit play.
Vanessa’s voice filled my study, clear and unmistakable.
He’s going to cave, Mom. The old man thinks he’s smart, but Kevin’s weak. Once I cry a little, tell him I can’t live without him, he’ll override his father.
Patricia’s voice: What if he doesn’t?
Then we cut our losses and move to the next city. Austin’s played out anyway. Maybe Colorado. Somewhere fresh.
What about the money we already got from him? The $35,000?
Ancient history. He’d have to prove it was fraud, not gifts. We’re clear on that. And the wedding deposits, if we’d gotten them—
Vanessa laughed.
Same as always. The vendors will say they had contracts. They’ll show our forged signatures. The deposits are non-refundable. By the time anyone figures out the companies don’t exist, we’re already gone.
I stopped the recording.
Kevin’s face had gone pale. He’d never actually listened to that one before.
“That’s from last week?” Edward asked.
“Five days ago,” Kevin confirmed.
Edward shook his head slowly.
“That’s conspiracy to commit fraud. That’s admission of previous frauds. That’s… that’s everything.”
“That’s what we file with our response to the lawsuit,” I said. “Along with the financial analysis showing the fake vendors. Along with affidavits from the previous victims. Along with a motion to dismiss her suit and a counterclaim for attempted fraud.”
Edward was already opening his laptop.
“I’ll have the response filed by tomorrow morning.”
This lawsuit was the worst mistake they could have made.
But I was already thinking ahead, seeing the next moves.
“They don’t know about the recordings or the other victims,” I said. “They think this is a he-said-she-said situation where their sob story might work.”
“When do they find out?” Kevin asked.
“At the hearing. I want to see their faces when the judge hears that recording.”
Edward looked up from his laptop.
“Richard, there’s something else. I got a call this afternoon from the Texas Attorney General’s office. Someone there has been looking into wedding fraud schemes, apparently triggered by complaints from the Steven Richards case. When I mentioned Vanessa Morales, they asked me to send over everything we have. Consumer Protection Division. Financial crimes. They’re building a case.”
I smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile.
“Then we need to make sure they have everything they need.”
That night, I compiled a comprehensive package. Gerald’s investigative report. Thomas’s financial analysis. The recordings. Witness statements from all five previous victims. Bank records showing the shell companies. Everything cross-referenced, indexed, and presented in the format I’d used for federal prosecutions.
The package went to three places: Edward for the civil lawsuit response, the Attorney General’s financial crimes division, and the Dallas County District Attorney’s Office, marked for the attention of the fraud prosecution unit.
The next morning, Edward filed our response. It was a fifty-three-page document that systematically destroyed every claim in Vanessa’s lawsuit and presented evidence of a multi-year criminal conspiracy.
The hearing was scheduled for three weeks out.
Kevin was nervous. I was not.
“What if the judge doesn’t allow the evidence?” he asked. “What if they claim it’s not relevant?”
“It’s completely relevant. She’s claiming emotional distress from a broken engagement. We’re showing that the engagement was fraudulent from the start, that she never intended to marry you, that this was always about money. That directly contradicts her claim.”
“And if the judge doesn’t see it that way?”
“Then we appeal. But trust me, judges don’t like being lied to, and this lawsuit is built on lies.”
The wheels started turning faster than I expected.
One week before the scheduled hearing, I got a call from someone I hadn’t spoken to in three years. James Patterson, a senior investigator with the Attorney General’s financial crimes division. We’d worked together on a mortgage fraud case back when I was still prosecuting.
“Richard Porter,” he said when I answered. “I heard you were retired and restoring old books.”
“I am, mostly. Except when I’m building criminal cases that would make a federal prosecutor jealous.”
He laughed once.
“I got your package. It’s immaculate. Thank you. We want to move on this immediately. The evidence of organized fraud is overwhelming, and with five victims willing to testify, we can make charges stick. But I need to coordinate with your civil case.”
“What do you need?”
“The recordings, official copies, properly authenticated. And statements from Kevin about the timeline of his relationship with Vanessa Morales and the money he transferred to her or to alleged vendors.”
“You’ll have everything by tomorrow.”
“One more thing,” Patterson said. “We found two more victims. Well, potential victims. Women who were engaged to different men, and the engagements ended right after the women started asking questions about wedding budgets. Both in New Mexico, just over the state line. Patricia Morales was involved in both.”
Seven victims.
The pattern was even worse than I’d thought.
“Are they willing to testify?”
“Working on it. But here’s the thing, Richard. We’re going to need to file charges before your civil hearing. The DA wants this shut down now before they can target anyone else.”
“How soon?”
“Next week. Maybe sooner.”
I felt a surge of satisfaction.
“Do it.”
Two days later, Vanessa made her next mistake.
She sent Kevin a series of text messages that started conciliatory and ended threatening.
Kevin, I still love you. We can work this out. Your father doesn’t have to control your life. I’m willing to drop the lawsuit if you just talk to me.
And then, when Kevin didn’t respond:
You know, I have connections. People who can make life difficult for you and your father. Think carefully about how far you want to push this. Some fights aren’t worth winning.