Chapter 6 - The Paper Trail
By 8:00 AM the following morning, Ryan woke up in his master bedroom feeling like a king who had successfully defended his castle.
The nursery was completely transformed. The blood-stained rug had been cut out, rolled up, and placed in the trunk of Eleanor’s sedan to be incinerated. The floor had been scrubbed with bleach until it shone, smelling heavily of artificial pine. My clothes were gone from the closet, making it look as though I had packed up my life and vanished.
Ryan dressed in a crisp grey suit, adjusted his silk tie in the mirror, and smiled at his reflection. "Heartbroken husband," he practiced softly, lowering his chin and casting his eyes downward. "I just don't understand why she left..."
Satisfied with his performance, he grabbed his briefcase and walked downstairs to make himself an espresso.
He pulled out his phone and opened his online banking app, intending to check his investment portfolio before driving to his corporate office.
An error message flashed across the screen in bright red text: ACCOUNT ACCESS RESTRICTED. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR BRANCH MANAGER.
Ryan frowned. "What the..."
He tried his secondary checking account. Same message: RESTRICTED.
He tried his corporate credit card. CANCELLED.
Panic, cold and sharp, returned to his chest. He quickly dialed his bank manager, a personal friend named David. "David! It’s Ryan Carter. Why are all my accounts frozen? Is there a fraud alert on my profile?"
David’s voice on the line was quiet, formal, and stiff. "Ryan. I'm legally obligated to inform you that your personal, joint, and business accounts have been placed under a temporary judicial freeze per an emergency order issued by the District Court of Colorado."
Ryan froze, his coffee cup hovering inches from his lips. "Judicial freeze?! What are you talking about? On whose authority?!"
"On the authority of Mrs. Emma Carter’s legal counsel," David replied flatly. "The order was executed at seven thirty this morning. All liquid assets, including your investment accounts and credit lines, are locked pending a formal hearing. Good day, Ryan."
The line went dead.
Ryan dropped his mug. It shattered against the kitchen tile, black coffee splashing across his polished shoes.
Before his brain could process the financial lockdown, a heavy, metallic knock echoed through the front door. Three loud, authoritative booms that shook the glass panels of the entrance.
Ryan sprinted to the foyer, his heart hammering against his throat like a jackhammer. He pulled open the door.
Standing on his porch were two uniformed officers from the Jefferson County Sheriff's Department, flanked by a court process server holding a thick stack of legal documents. Behind them, parked along the curb, sat a large moving truck and a sleek black SUV with tinted windows.
"Ryan Carter?" the primary deputy asked, his hand resting casually on his belt.
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"Yes?" Ryan stuttered, his voice squeaking. "What is this? What’s going on?"
The process server stepped forward and shoved the heavy stack of papers directly into Ryan's chest. "You've been served, Mr. Carter. You have thirty minutes to gather your personal clothing and vacate these premises."
