The Cost of Happiness: A Contemporary Romance Read Online Free

Underwood sighed deeply, pushed to her feet, and took the papers away with her.
    Twenty minutes later, she was back with a paunchy man who looked unhappy.
    “Ms. Mattson, I’m Sam Walczek.”
    Meghan stood politely and shook his hand.
    “Debra here tells me you claim to have had nothing to do with your mother’s scam.”
    “Mr. Walczek, I last saw my mother at my grandfather’s funeral, and we didn’t speak even then. That was in 2003. Before that, I hadn’t seen her since my sixteenth birthday. We’re not close. I can’t prove that, but I can certainly get a lot of people to testify to the nature of my mother’s treatment of me.”
    He grunted. “Sit down, Ms. Mattson. May I call you Meghan?”
    Meghan shrugged. Probably couldn’t hurt. “Sure.” She sat back down.
    Walczek took the other chair on the “guest” side of Debra Underwood’s desk. Debra hesitated, then sat in her chair nervously, remaining perched on the edge as though Walczek would send her for coffee at any minute.
    “Meghan.” Walczek nodded slightly. “Right. Here’s the thing. We have your name, your Social Security number, and details of your life on various communications your mother sent to your—uh, her victims. As I’m sure you know, that’s prima facie evidence of your complicity.”
    “I had Maurice Stephens for Crim Law,” Meghan said softly.
    Walczek smiled for the first time. “Old Maury. What a character. Referred to the FBI as the Federales —I have to stop myself from using that word sometimes.”
    Meghan waited politely.
    “And I’m sure you got a much better grade than I did,” Walczek said. “So look at the evidence from our perspective. It’s just as easy for us to paint you as the brains behind the scheme as it is for you to portray yourself as the innocent victim.”
    Meghan didn’t look away. “You have the burden of proof.”
    “That’s right. We’re taking that into consideration. I agree we might fail to convict you, or only convict you of a lesser charge. I assure you—we’ll give it everything we’ve got.”
    “Mr. Walczek—”
    “Sam,” he coaxed.
    “I looked up how many indictments this office has open. I know your conviction rate. I know what your trial schedule looks like. I’m a bad bet for a conviction. You and I both know that. If you pursue a conviction, I’ll find a criminal defense attorney who’s good and who’s hungry for a win. We’ll have the media on our side. ‘Straight-A law student hounded by the US Attorney’s office for a crime that was perpetrated against her, not by her.’” Meghan cocked her head. “I think that will play well on the news, don’t you?”
    Meghan pushed back the shame and hurt that flooded in with the rush of memories. “I can provide witnesses to Bianca’s behavior over the years. Behavior that’s classic for an individual with bipolar disorder who’s off her meds. Also, I’ll present evidence that she was a neglectful mother, ignoring her only child in favor of indulging her own needs.”
    She looked over Debra Underwood’s shoulder at the window framing a sweltering Chicago afternoon. “I learned early on that I couldn’t rely on my mother or trust anything she promised. She’d leave without notice, regardless of what she said she’d do with me. Without my granddad, I’d have been in foster care pretty much from birth.”
    Meghan turned back to Walczek. “That’s all true, by the way, as I suspect you know from looking at my mom’s record of hospitalizations and incarcerations. So let’s cut the crap. You’re going to drop the indictments against me. And you’re going to inform anyone who inquires that you’ve cleared me of all wrongdoing. That’s no bar to refiling the indictment, so your ass is covered in case I’m bullshitting you.”
    Walczek exchanged a look with Underwood, who seemed completely nonplussed.
    “Okay,” he said finally. “Here’s where we are. We’ve seized your mother’s assets, slightly