“One more note,” Hale said. “Gavin Reed was born Gavin Michael Dorsey in Newark, New Jersey. Name legally changed four years ago. Former employment: junior shift manager at a rental car company. Termination record includes unauthorized personal use of company vehicles.”
The laughter died after that.
Because then the side doors opened and FBI agents entered.
Not scandal anymore.
Consequence.
The lead agent approached him. “Gavin Michael Dorsey, you are under arrest for wire fraud, bank fraud, aggravated identity theft, embezzlement, and related financial crimes.”
As they took his arms, he twisted toward Evelyn and shouted, “I loved you! In my own way!”
The room held its breath.
Evelyn stepped closer, unclasped the Hartwell Blue from her throat, and held the sapphire in her hand so it caught the chandelier light.
“You didn’t love me,” she said. “You loved the version of yourself my silence let you perform. The performance is over.”
Then they took him away.
For forty-eight hours, America adored her.