Chapter 13 - The Visitor at Stateville
By Friday afternoon, Apex Capital Holdings had signed an unconditional surrender of all claims against 4412 Maple Street, fleeing back to New York to deal with their own federal compliance audits.
The house was finally, completely secure. But there was one final task I needed to perform with my own hands.
At 1:00 PM on a gray November afternoon, Daniel drove my Buick through the heavy iron gates of Stateville Correctional Center in Joliet, Illinois.
I stepped out of the car wearing my heavy winter coat. I didn't enter the maximum-security facility out of bitterness or vengeance. I walked into the cold, sterile visiting room as a man who was closing a door forever.
A minute later, the heavy iron door opened.
Javier was led into the room by an armed guard. He looked withered. Fourteen months of state prison life had stripped away his fake confidence, his tailored posture, and his quick smiles, leaving a thin, graying man in an oversized orange jumpsuit with hollow cheeks and trembling hands.
He sat down on the stool across the thick glass divider, picking up the plastic telephone receiver with shaking fingers.
I picked up mine.
“Robert...” Javier rasped through the small speaker. His voice was cracked, devoid of its former booming arrogance. “You came... I didn't think you’d ever come see me.”
“I didn't come to see you, Javier,” I said calmly. “I came to deliver a document.”
Javier pressed his forehead against the cold glass. “Robert, please... I heard about Apex Capital. I’m sorry... I was desperate... the guys in New Jersey were going to break my legs...”
“The lien on Maple Street was cancelled two hours ago,” I interrupted softly. “The house is free, clear, and protected under an irrevocable family trust.”
Javier stared at me through the glass, his eyes bloodshot, filled with a pathetic, hollow regret.
“How is she?” Javier whimpered. “How is Gabriela? How is the baby?”
“Gabriela had a healthy baby boy three months ago,” I said flatly. “His name is Thomas. She lives quietly in Rockford. She works hard, she’s rebuilding her life, and she has a court order preventing you from ever coming within five hundred feet of that child.”
Javier buried his face in his chapped hands, a ragged, choking sob escaping his throat. “I lost everything... I have twelve more years in this place, Robert... twelve years...”
I looked at him through the glass, feeling no anger, no hatred, and no lingering pain. The predator who had locked me in my own garage was gone, replaced by a ghost serving time for his own greed.
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“You didn't lose everything, Javier,” I told him, my voice steady and cold. “You threw it away. Don't ever write to my house again.”
I hung up the plastic receiver, set it cleanly back on its hook, stood up, and walked out of the visitor room without looking back once.
