Chapter 9 - THE DEPOSITION
Z
On Saturday morning, while the rest of Norfolk was enjoying a warm summer weekend, the conference room of Reed & Associates was transformed into a high-stakes legal battleground.
Large glass windows overlooked the Elizabeth River, but the shades were drawn tight. Sitting around the long mahogany table were Evelyn Reed, myself, an official court stenographer with a digital transcription machine, and Assistant Commonwealth Attorney James Vance (a prosecutor with no relation to the defendants), who had been assigned to oversee the emergency criminal deposition of Monica Bennett.
Monica sat at the end of the table, looking pale, exhausted, and wearing simple jeans and a sweater. Gone was the expensive pastel dress Marcus Vance had chosen for her. Beside her sat a court-appointed criminal defense lawyer who had been assigned to protect her rights during her state confession.
"This is the emergency deposition of Monica Evelyn Bennett," Prosecutor James announced, clicking the record button on a audio-video system positioned in the center of the table. "Present are counsel for Commander Rachel Bennett, representatives of the Commonwealth Attorney’s Office, and counsel for the witness. State your full name for the record."
"Monica Evelyn Bennett," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you understand that you are testifying under oath, under penalty of perjury, and that your statements here today will be used in ongoing criminal and civil proceedings involving Arthur Vance, Marcus Vance, and yourself?"
"I do," Monica swallowed hard.
Evelyn Reed stepped forward, placing a thick stack of printed text messages, bank transfer receipts, and photograph printouts in front of Monica.
"Monica," Evelyn began, her tone measured and professional. "When did you first make contact with Marcus Vance or Arthur Vance regarding my client, Rachel Bennett?"
Monica took a deep, shaky breath, glancing over at me for a fraction of a second before looking down at her hands.
"It started in May," Monica began, her voice quivering before steadying. "I was behind on my rent by three months. My credit cards were maxed out, and my car had been repossessed. I was desperate. I called Arthur Vance to ask if there was any family trust money left from David's estate that could help me."
"And what was Arthur Vance's response?" Evelyn asked.
"Arthur told me that Rachel was keeping all the family money for herself and Eli," Monica testified. "He said Rachel was an arrogant military woman who didn't respect the Vance family name. He told me that if I helped him gain legal custody of Eli, he would pay off all my debts, buy me a new car, and give me a monthly stipend of four thousand dollars to serve as Eli’s live-in nanny at his estate."
"Did Marcus Vance participate in these discussions?" Prosecutor James asked, leaning forward.
"Yes," Monica nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Marcus met me at a restaurant in Virginia Beach three weeks later. He gave me an encrypted burner phone. He told me exactly what to do. He said I needed to go to Rachel’s house, act friendly, look for any injuries on Eli, and find a way to access her phone or computer."
"And the cloud album logins?" Evelyn pressed.
"Marcus gave me instructions on how to access the shared family album," Monica confessed. "He told me to download every picture where Eli had a scratch or a bruise. When I told him that those were old photos from playground falls or bike accidents, Marcus said, 'It doesn't matter when they happened. CPS doesn't look at metadata; they look at bruises.'"
The court stenographer's fingers flew across the key machine, capturing every devastating syllable.
"And who took the eleven photos submitted to Child Protective Services on Tuesday?" Evelyn asked.
"Arthur’s personal secretary sent those photos to my burner phone on Monday night," Monica revealed, her head bowed in shame. "They were taken during a holiday weekend two years ago when David was still alive. Arthur’s staff used digital editing software to enhance the red marks and bruises to make them look recent."
"And the affidavit claiming you witnessed physical abuse at Rachel’s home?" Prosecutor James asked sternly.
"Marcus wrote the affidavit," Monica wept, her shoulders shaking with heavy sobs. "He brought it to my apartment on Tuesday morning, handed me a pen, and told me that if I didn't sign it right then, Arthur would report me to the police for the eight hundred dollars I had borrowed from Rachel under false pretenses. I was terrified. I signed it without reading it."
Silence settled over the conference room, heavy and absolute. The state prosecutor looked over at his assistant, nodding slowly. Every single element of felony false reporting, perjury, conspiracy to commit fraud, and witness intimidation had been systematically laid bare under oath.
"Thank you, Miss Bennett," Prosecutor James said, shutting off his folder. "Your full cooperation today will be reflected in our plea recommendations. However, you will remain in state protective custody until the formal indictments against Arthur and Marcus Vance are unsealed on Monday morning."
As the police officers escorted Monica out of the room, she stopped near my chair. She looked at me with red, swollen eyes, her lip trembling.
"Rachel... I am so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I was so stupid... so greedy... I almost destroyed your life..."
I looked at my sister—the girl I had grown up with, the woman I had tried to help again and again.
"You didn't just almost destroy my life, Monica," I said, my voice quiet, firm, and filled with deep, lingering sorrow. "You tried to take my son. You tried to sell Eli for rent money."
"Rachel..."
"I forgive you as a sister," I said softly, looking her dead in the eye. "But as Eli’s mother, I will never let you near my son again."
Monica closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face, and allowed the officers to lead her away down the corridor.
Evelyn Reed turned to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "That deposition is the final nail in their coffin, Rachel. The Commonwealth Attorney is filing emergency felony warrants for Arthur and Marcus Vance as we speak. By Monday morning, they won't be standing in a family courtroom—they'll be standing in a criminal arraignment court."
My phone chimed with a message from Captain Vance at Naval Station Norfolk:
Rachel. The IG investigation has been formally terminated. The anonymous complaint was traced to an offshore server funded by Vance Maritime accounts. Your security clearance has been fully restored with honors. Report back to duty on Monday as Chief Senior Trial Counsel.
May you like
I stood up, walked to the glass window, and pulled back the heavy shade.
The gray fog had completely dissolved, replaced by brilliant, golden afternoon sunlight sparkling off the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. The long night was finally over.
