CHAPTER 5: The Funeral Trap

The morning of Brock's funeral was gray and rainy. It was like the sky itself was putting on a show. I dressed Emma in her black velvet dress. She talked about seeing Daddy one more time.

"Will Daddy wake up when he sees me?" she asked. She twisted in my arms as I fixed her hair ribbon.

"No, sweetheart. Daddy is sleeping a very deep sleep now. But he can still hear us when we say goodbye."

I spent the night planning every detail. The funeral home. The flowers. The guest list. 

At Eternal Rest Funeral Home, I played my part perfectly. The sad widow in designer black. I accepted sympathy with graceful calm while Emma held onto my leg. Tatiana arrived in an elegant black dress. Her acting was equally perfect.

"He looks so peaceful," she whispered. She walked up to Brock's open casket with tears in her eyes.

I had to admire her acting. If I didn't know better, I might have believed she really cared.

Marcus appeared at my side. Camera equipment hung around his neck. "Bethany, I'm so sorry for your loss." His dark eyes looked at my face with concern. It felt real after years of Brock's fake emotions.

"Thank you for coming," I said softly. "I know this is hard. But I want Emma to have beautiful memories of saying goodbye to her father."

Marcus nodded. He already started taking pictures of the people mourning. They didn't know his real job today was documenting something very different.

As guests came in, I stood near Tatiana and Valerie. Brock's mean sister arrived from Chicago that morning. They stood by the guest book. They whispered in low voices about funeral costs and poor Bethany's future.

It was time for the show of my life.

I pulled out my phone and called. I made sure my voice was loud enough for them to hear. "Hello, is this Metropolitan Life Insurance? Yes, this is Bethany Nott calling about my husband's policy... Brock Nott, policy number 447-889-2156."

Both women went perfectly still. Their conversation died immediately.

"Twenty million dollars?" I said loud enough for half the funeral home to hear. "Yes, I understand there will be an investigation. Standard procedure for any claim this big." I paused. I let worry creep into my voice. "Fraud penalties? How bad are we talking?"

Tatiana's face went white under her careful makeup.

"Twice the policy amount plus fifty years in prison?" I gasped. "Well, of course everything was real. My husband would never... Thank you, yes, I'll expect your investigation tomorrow."

I hung up. I turned and found both women staring at me. "Insurance companies," I said with a shaky laugh. "They make you feel like a criminal just for filing a claim."

"Twenty million?" Valerie's voice was carefully flat.

"Brock was always worried about providing for Emma and me if something happened." I wiped my eyes with a tissue. "Though I have to admit, the fraud investigation makes me nervous. If there were any problems in his business..." I stopped talking meaningfully.

Tatiana grabbed Valerie's arm. "We should pay our respects to Brock," she said quickly. She pulled her toward the casket.

I watched them huddle together. Their whispered talk got more and more heated. Marcus caught my eye from across the room. He nodded slightly. His camera was recording everything.

Twenty minutes later, I excused myself to the bathroom. I found them in the hall outside. They were arguing in harsh whispers.

"We have to do it tonight," Valerie was saying. "Before the investigation starts."

"But what if someone finds out?" Tatiana's voice was scared.

"No one will find out if he's actually dead. The insurance will pay. We split it three ways like we planned. Everyone's happy."

"Except Bethany gets a third."

Valerie smiled coldly. "Not if she's not legally allowed to it."

I slipped back into the main room before they could see me. My heart was pounding. But not with fear. Everything was going exactly like I planned.

The service was beautiful, if I do say so myself. I gave a touching speech about Brock's generous spirit and love for his family. Emma threw a single white rose onto the casket. She whispered, "Sleep tight, Daddy."

As guests started to leave, Valerie walked up to me with official looking papers.

"Bethany, I know this is hard timing. But I found these papers in Brock's safe deposit box." She handed me a folder. Her hands were shaking. "Divorce papers. He already signed them."

I stared at the papers with perfect shock. "Divorce papers? But we were happy. We were planning to renew our vows next year..."

"I'm sorry," Valerie said. Though she didn't look sorry at all. "The signature is dated a week before the accident. Maybe he was planning to tell you but..."

"This means I'm not legally his wife." I let my voice break in a way that sounded real. "I'm not entitled to anything."

"The life insurance, the house, his business," Tatiana added quietly. "It all goes to Emma. With Valerie and I as trustees until she's eighteen."

I signed the papers with a shaking hand. Tears ran down my face. "I don't want anything that reminds me of him anyway," I cried. "From now on, Emma and I are on our own. We want nothing to do with his family or his money."

Relief covered both their faces. They thought they won.

That night, I parked across the street from the funeral home and waited. At 11:30 PM, a black truck pulled up. Tatiana and Valerie got out. They looked around nervously. Then they used a key to slip inside through the back door.

I followed from far away. My phone camera was ready.

Inside, they walked up to Brock's casket. They looked determined. Like women who made a choice they couldn't take back. Valerie pulled a silk scarf from her purse. Tatiana kept watch.

"Are you sure about this?" Tatiana whispered.

"He's not conscious from the drugs anyway," Valerie replied. "This just makes it permanent."

I filmed everything. They leaned over the casket. Valerie wrapped the scarf around Brock's throat. Tatiana held his shoulders down. Even though he was sedated, he struggled a little bit. His survival instincts fought back.

It took longer than they thought. When his breathing finally stopped, they stood there shaking. They stared down at what they did.

"It's finished," Valerie said finally. "Tomorrow we collect our inheritance."

They left separately. Valerie first. Then Tatiana ten minutes later. I waited until their tail lights disappeared. Then I walked up to the casket myself.

Brock lay still and cold. His face looked peaceful in death. It was very funny to watch. He planned to fake his death to escape with my money and my daughter. Instead, his greed convinced his partners to make it real.

I reached into his jacket pocket. I got his phone. I scrolled through his contacts until I found what I was looking for. I dialed the number and waited.

"Salvatore? This is Mrs. Nott. I have information about my late husband's debt to your organization."

It was the day of the burial. I sat in the funeral home's family room with Emma. I played the sad widow. I waited for the storm to break.

At exactly 10 AM, the funeral home's front doors didn't just open. They exploded inward with a crash that made everyone jump.

The first man had a face full of scars. His nose was clearly broken many times. Gold teeth flashed when he smiled at the room full of people. Behind him came five others. Their cheap suits didn't hide the weapons under their jackets.

"Where's the Nott family?" Scarface yelled. His voice echoed off the chapel walls. An old woman near the back started crying.

The funeral director walked forward on shaking legs. "Sir, please, this is a house of worship..."

"Shut up." The man's hand moved to his jacket. The funeral director went white. "I'm not talking to you."

Emma made a scared sound. She buried her face in my skirt. I kept my face carefully blank as Scarface's eyes swept the room like a hunter picking prey.

"Ten million dollars," he told everyone there. "Plus three years of interest. That's what Brock Nott owed my boss before he decided to take a little drive off the highway."

One of his men was a mountain of muscle. He had teardrop tattoos under his eyes. He grabbed the guest book and started reading names out loud. "Valerie Nott... Tatiana Black... oh, and look here, the sad widow herself.

Tatiana was pressed against the wall near Brock's casket. Her face was the color of ash. Valerie had gone perfectly still. Like a rabbit hoping the wolves wouldn't see her.

"Now," Scarface said. He pulled out a switchblade. He used it to clean his fingernails. "I don't care if the man's dead. Dead men's debts don't disappear. They pass to family."

The blade clicked as he folded it shut. The sound made half the room flinch.

"So here's how this works. You people are gonna pay what's owed. Or we're gonna collect it in ways you really won't like."