Chapter 6 - THE WOMAN AT STATION SIX
The salon had been my refuge.
Juniper House occupied the ground floor of a renovated brick building near Lakewood. The front windows fogged in winter from warm water, dryers, and too many people talking at once.
I had worked there for eleven years.
The owner, Teresa Hall, trusted me with payroll preparation, hiring, and high-value bridal clients.
Only six employees could access the staff calendar.
Police compared the photographs on Ryan’s drive with the salon layout.
Most were taken from Station Six.
That station belonged to Camille Rhodes.
Camille had stood beside me through two pregnancies, three family deaths, and hundreds of evenings when we split leftover takeout after the last client left.
When Teresa and I confronted her with our attorneys present, she cried immediately.
“Ryan said he was planning an anniversary surprise.”
“For eighteen months?” I asked.
She looked down.
The first request had been innocent.
A copy of my schedule.
A photograph of my favorite flowers.
Then Ryan told Camille he suspected I was stealing salon money and meeting someone after closing.
He paid her $300 per month to send photographs.
“Did you ever see me with another man?”
“No.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That I needed to watch better.”
Camille also copied parts of my client list.
Ryan offered the information to a corporate salon chain called GlowLine in exchange for a management position and a referral fee.
The proposed deal assumed Juniper House would lose me during divorce and collapse.
Ryan planned to convert my livelihood into another asset.
GlowLine’s attorney said the company never accepted the client data and had terminated discussions after realizing it might have been obtained improperly.
They preserved Ryan’s emails.
One said:
Lauren won’t be in a position to service these clients by spring.
Another said:
Once custody is resolved, she’ll need to cut hours.
His plan was not merely to take Leo.
He intended to make me too financially weak to fight.
Teresa fired Camille for the privacy breach.
I did not celebrate.
Losing a friend who had betrayed me felt different from defeating an enemy.
Camille later cooperated with investigators and faced civil claims over the client data. Prosecutors did not charge her with the larger financial conspiracy because evidence showed she did not know its scope.
She had accepted money to invade my privacy.
That consequence remained hers.
The full salon surveillance damaged Ryan’s custody position.
A court-appointed evaluator reviewed his pattern of collecting information, fabricating narratives, and using Leo’s identity.
Ryan told the evaluator he had acted because I excluded him from financial decisions.
“I froze an account after someone attempted unauthorized changes,” I said.
“You kept premarital savings separate,” he answered.
“Yes. Under our agreement.”
“You treated me like a threat.”
“I treated the account like mine.”
At the supervised visitation center, Leo initially refused to enter the room with him.
Ryan brought a remote-control dinosaur and promised a trip to an indoor water park.
The supervisor stopped him.
Visits were not supposed to become negotiations.
Leo eventually sat across from Ryan and drew pictures.
He asked one question.
“Why didn’t I get lobster?”
Ryan said:
“Grandma made a bad choice.”
The supervisor documented the answer.
He had designed the dinner.
He still placed the decision on Carol.
That evening, April received Ryan’s amended financial disclosure.
It listed no life insurance beyond an ordinary workplace policy.
Nora Chen found a second policy through lender records.
It insured my life for one million dollars.
North Shore Table Holdings was the beneficiary.
May you like
My signature appeared on the application.
And the policy had been pledged as collateral for the restaurant’s final loan.
