The microphones were designed mostly for security alerts, not conversations, but the sound was clear enough.
Belle said, “Accounting didn’t question Santa Fe?”
Corbin laughed.
“Why would they? I coded it under client development.”
Belle said something quieter.
Then:
“What about Sedona?”
“Regional team retreat.”
She laughed.
“You’re terrible.”
“I’m efficient.”
Leticia and I looked at each other.
“Do you know what they’re talking about?”
“No.”
But I knew how to find out legally.
I did not search Corbin’s work accounts.
I did not hack anything.
Leticia prepared a preservation request concerning any company records that might become relevant to the divorce and Belle’s threatened injury claim.
That was enough.
Four days later, Belle retained counsel.
A civil complaint followed several weeks afterward.
The filing claimed my pool contained a hazardous substance that caused lasting injury and severe emotional distress.
Corbin joined part of the action, alleging reckless household conduct and asking for spousal support along with interests in my business assets.
Leticia sat across from me in her office reading the complaint.
Halfway through, she removed her glasses.
“I have practiced twenty-one years.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“This may be the most confident complaint I have read relative to the facts available.”
“Is that good?”
“For us?”
She put her glasses back on.
“Yes.”
The lawsuit changed everything because Belle now had to support her claims.
So did I.
An independent laboratory tested samples from the diagnostic marker.
Another analyzed the tanning product Belle had brought.
A board-certified dermatologist reviewed Belle’s records.
No tissue injury.
No nerve injury.
No chemical burn.
Temporary cosmetic staining.
At deposition, Belle admitted under oath that she had applied the tanning product herself before entering the pool.
Her attorney asked whether she had believed the pool was safe.
“Yes.”
“Did Mrs. Morgan invite you to swim?”
Belle looked uncomfortable.
“No.”
“Did Mrs. Morgan know you were present before arriving home?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you have permission from the property owner?”
Belle glanced toward Corbin’s attorney.
“No.”
That one word changed the atmosphere.
Then Leticia placed the security images on the table.
Belle entering voluntarily.
Belle carrying the tanning bottle.
Belle laughing beside Corbin.
No work documents visible anywhere.
The injury case began losing air.
But the corporate problem was only beginning.
Because during discovery, Corbin’s employer reviewed the expense conversation captured on my property.
Their internal audit found repeated reimbursements connected to personal travel.
Hotel stays in Austin.
A weekend in Santa Fe.
Restaurant charges.
A Sedona trip classified as a regional work retreat despite no regional employees attending.
More than two dozen expense claims.
Just under ninety thousand dollars.
I did not celebrate when I learned.
Corbin had worked there eleven years.
A career is not a small thing to lose.
But neither is trust.
His access was suspended during review.
Weeks later, his employment ended.
That was when his confidence truly began to disappear.
The expensive suits remained.
The voice remained.
But the assumption that rooms would arrange themselves around him was gone.
Diane, meanwhile, doubled down.