My Rich Ex Boyfriend Died And Left A Jeopardy Game To Determine Who’d Inherit

The Legal Fight and Evidence Trail

She explained this was an informal conversation. I wasn’t under arrest. But the circumstances of Charlie’s death required investigation given what came out during the will reading.

She pulled out a notepad and pen and sat across from me. Rachel Williams stood by the door with her arms crossed.

Detective Napier asked me to start from the beginning and tell her about that night. I took a breath and told her exactly what happened.

Charlie came over around 8. We talked for a while about nothing important. He said he wanted something calming.

So I made chamomile tea with honey because that’s what I had. He left around 10:00, seeming tired, but fine.

He said he needed to get home and get some sleep. Detective Napier wrote everything down without looking up.

She asked if I knew about his medications. I admitted I knew about the certine because he told me months ago when we were still together.

Said it helped with his anxiety but made him feel flat sometimes. Detective Napier looked up from her notepad.

She asked why I knew so many personal details about Charlie’s life if we had broken up. I explained we stayed in touch.

I said I still cared about him even though the relationship didn’t work out. I said knowing someone’s therapy schedule or what app they use for meditation doesn’t mean I wanted to hurt them.

She wrote something down that I couldn’t see. I asked if I needed a lawyer. She said that was my right, but that I wasn’t being charged with anything at this time.

She closed her notepad and said someone would be in touch probably within the next few days. She stood up and told Rachel to show me out through the back exit to avoid the family.

Rachel walked me down a different hallway past offices with closed doors. She led me out a side door that led to the parking garage.

I sat in my car in the parking garage for 20 minutes. I was shaking so hard I couldn’t turn the key.

My hands kept slipping off the steering wheel. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead and made everything look greenish and sick.

My phone started buzzing with texts from numbers I didn’t recognize. I opened the messages and saw people calling me a murderer.

They said I should be in jail. They were threatening to find out where I lived. Someone from the will reading must have posted about it online because strangers were messaging me now.

One text said I deserved everything coming to me. Another said they hoped I got what I gave Charlie.

I turned off my phone and tried to breathe, but my chest felt tight and small. I needed to get out of this garage away from this building somewhere safe.

I turned my phone back on and called Allison from work. She was the only person I could trust right now.

She answered on the second ring. I started crying before I could say anything. She asked where I was.

I managed to tell her about the will reading and the police and the texts. She said to come to her place right now.

Gave me her address on Maple Street. Said she would order food and I could stay as long as I needed.

She didn’t ask if I did it. She didn’t hesitate or sound worried about getting involved.

I finally got the key in the ignition and drove to her apartment. I checked my mirrors the whole way to make sure nobody was following me.

At Allison’s apartment, I finally broke down and cried for the first time since Charlie died. She sat next to me on her couch.

She didn’t try to fix anything or tell me it would be okay. She just let me cry and handed me tissues when I needed them.

I told her everything about the Jeopardy game. I told her how I knew all the answers about his family blaming me.

I told her about the journal and the detective and the texts. She listened without interrupting.

When I finished, she said we needed to get me a lawyer. I said I didn’t know if I could afford one.

She said it didn’t matter, that I needed protection whether I got charged or not. She made me eat some pizza even though I wasn’t hungry.

She set up the guest room with clean sheets. I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

I kept hearing Charlie’s voice asking for tea. I was seeing his face when he left that night.

I wondered what he was thinking and why he did this to me. The next morning, Allison helped me search online for lawyers.

They handled both criminal defense and civil cases. We found three with good reviews and offices downtown.

I called each one and explained briefly what was happening. The first lawyer said he was booked for the next month.

The second wanted a $$5,000$ retainer upfront. The third, Desmond Fraser, said he could meet me that afternoon at 2.

The initial consultation was free. Allison drove me to his office because I was still too shaky to trust myself behind the wheel.

I met Desmond Fraser at his office downtown on the eighth floor. The building had marble floors and security guards.

His office was small but organized. Law books lined one wall and a window overlooked the street. He was maybe 50 with gray at his temples and wire-rimmed glasses.

Something about his calm, steady way of moving made me feel less like I was about to fall apart. He shook my hand.

He told me to sit down and take my time telling him everything. I went through the whole story again.

This went from my relationship with Charlie to the breakup, to that last night, to the will reading. He took notes in a yellow legal pad and never interrupted me.

When I finished, he set down his pen. He explained that the tea was almost certainly harmless.

But I needed to stop talking to anyone about this case without him present. He said the police, the family, any reporters who might call, nobody gets information from me anymore.

He asked about my finances. I told him I had maybe 3,000 in savings. He said he would work with me on payment.

Right now the priority was making sure I didn’t accidentally say something that could be used against me later. That evening, Desmond called me at home.

We went over what would happen next. He said the investigation would focus on three main questions. I needed to be ready for all of them.

Did I know about the medication interaction between Certrilene and Diffen Hydramine before Charlie died?.

Did I have any reason to want to hurt him?.

Did I give him the pills or tell him to take them?.

I told Desmond I didn’t even know what Diffenhydramine was until the lawyer said it at the will reading. I thought it was some prescription drug I’d never heard of.

He said we needed to write down everything I knew and didn’t know. We needed to make a timeline of every conversation with Charlie in his last few weeks.

We had to document exactly what happened that night he came over. The next morning, Detective Napier called Desmond’s office.

She requested a formal interview with me. Desmond told her we needed 3 days to prepare.

She agreed to schedule it for Thursday afternoon at the police station. I took time off work and spent hours at Desmond’s office going through everything.

He asked about my relationship with Charlie. He asked how we met, why we broke up, when we started talking again.

He made me write down every text message I could remember from the last month. I wrote down every phone call.

I wrote what we talked about when Charlie visited that final night. We built a detailed record of facts.

Desmond kept emphasizing that I should stick to what I actually knew. I should not guess about Charlie’s thoughts or feelings.

Meanwhile, Charlie’s family started posting on social media. They didn’t use my name directly, but it was obvious who they meant.

His mother shared old photos of Charlie. The captions were about how his killer was walking free while they suffered.

His brother posted about the justice system failing families. He claimed some people get away with murder because they’re good at lying.

Their friends and relatives shared the posts. They added comments about what should happen to people who poison others.

There were increasingly violent suggestions about revenge and street justice. I made the mistake of reading through the comments one night.

I couldn’t sleep afterward. By Wednesday, I knew I had to tell my boss what was happening.

The social media posts were spreading and someone at work would see them eventually. I scheduled a meeting.

The HR representative sat in taking notes while I explained about Charlie’s death and the will reading and the investigation.

My boss was sympathetic. She said she was sorry for what I was going through. But I could see the worry on her face about what this meant for the company.

She asked if I expected to be charged. I said my lawyer didn’t think so, but we were still in the middle of everything.

The HR representative said they would support me. She asked me to keep them informed of any developments that might affect my work.

That afternoon, Desmond called to say,

“Doctor Hyatt had contacted his office.”

The therapist wanted to help. He explained he was bound by patient confidentiality rules even after Charlie’s death. This was unless a court legally forced him to share information.

Desmond said we would probably need to subpoena the therapy records, which felt horrible. It felt like violating Charlie’s privacy all over again.

But it might be the only way to prove what really happened that night. I hated that Charlie’s final conversations with his therapist would get dragged into court.

But I hated being accused of murder more. Thursday came and I met Desmond at the police station downtown.

We went into an interview room with Detective Napier and another officer. The officer didn’t say much, just watched and took notes.

Detective Napier was professional and methodical, going through everything in chronological order. She asked about my relationship history with Charlie.

She asked the reasons for our breakup. She asked why we stayed in contact afterward.

She asked about the night he died. She asked what time he arrived. She asked what we talked about, how he seemed, what I served him, what time he left.

I stuck to the facts like Desmond had coached me. I didn’t speculate about whether Charlie seemed depressed or what he might have been planning.

Desmond occasionally interrupted to clarify a question or redirect. This was when Detective Napier asked about my interpretations instead of my observations.

Then Detective Napier pulled out a folder. She showed me printouts of my internet search history from 2 months before Charlie died.

Searches about certuline interactions, safe medications for anxiety, side effects of anti-depressants. My stomach dropped looking at them because I knew how bad it looked.

Desmond immediately explained these were harm reduction searches. He said I was trying to help Charlie find safer alternatives after he complained about side effects from his medication.

He insisted I was not researching ways to hurt him. Detective Napier made notes but didn’t comment.

After the interview ended and we left the station, Desmond told me the searches looked bad but weren’t evidence of intent.

This was especially true since they happened weeks before Charlie died and were clearly formational rather than planning focused.

He said the real question was what the journal said. Charlie’s own words would carry more weight than anyone’s guesses about what happened.

The next week, Rachel Williams filed a motion to access the journal under court seal for evidentiary review.

Her argument was that the contents were necessary to properly execute the will. They might contain information relevant to the police investigation.

The probate judge scheduled a hearing for the following week. I went back to work and tried to act normal.

But I could feel people watching me differently. Some co-workers I’d been friendly with suddenly found reasons to avoid me in the hallways.

Others stared when they thought I wasn’t looking. At lunch, Allison stayed close.

She sat with me in the cafeteria, even though I barely touched my food. Someone at a nearby table made a comment just loud enough for us to hear.

It was about people getting away with murder. Allison immediately turned around and told them to wait for actual facts.

She told them to stop spreading rumors about things they knew nothing about. The woman looked startled and mumbled an apology.

But I could feel my face burning with shame and anger. I got back to my desk and tried to focus on work.

My hands were still shaking from lunch. My phone rang 15 minutes later. I answered without checking the caller ID.

The screaming started immediately. Charlie’s mother’s voice was so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear.

She called me a murderer. She said I killed her son and she would make sure I paid for it.

She claimed she knew people who could make my life hell. She said she wouldn’t stop until I was in prison where I belonged.

I hung up without saying anything. I sat there staring at the phone for a minute.

It rang again, same number. I didn’t answer. It rang four more times before finally stopping.

I walked straight to HR and reported the call. The representative took notes. She asked if I wanted to file a formal complaint.

I said yes. She told me they would change my extension immediately. I needed to document any further contact from Charlie’s family.

She was professional and sympathetic. But I could tell she was worried about the situation affecting the company.

I went back to my desk with a new extension number and tried to work. I couldn’t stop shaking for over an hour.

Every time my phone rang, I jumped. Allison came by twice to check on me.

The second time, she brought me coffee. She sat with me until I calmed down enough to actually type something.

Three days later, Desmond called with the first real good news since this whole thing started. The pharmacy records came back.

They showed Charlie bought the Diffen Hydramine himself. He used his own credit card at a drugstore three blocks from his apartment.

The purchase happened 3 days before he died. Desmond said this was huge.

It proved Charlie got the medication on his own. I didn’t give it to him or even know he had it.

The record showed he bought a large bottle of the stuff. This was way more than someone would need for allergies or sleep problems.

Desmond said we needed to get this information to Detective Napier right away. It changed everything about the investigation.

I felt like I could breathe for the first time in weeks. Finally, there was actual proof that I didn’t do what everyone was accusing me of doing.

Desmond warned me not to get too excited yet. The family would probably claim I told Charlie to buy it or something.

But at least now there was evidence showing his own actions separate from anything I did. The probate hearing happened the following week.

I sat in the back of the courtroom with Desmond while lawyers argued about the journal. Rachel Williams explained that the journal was in a sealed safety deposit box.

It contained information relevant to both the estate distribution and the investigation into Charlie’s death. The judge was an older woman who looked tired and annoyed by the whole situation.

Charlie’s family attorney stood up. He argued that the entire will should be thrown out.

He claimed Charlie was clearly mentally unstable when he wrote it. He said the Jeopardy game proved he wasn’t thinking straight.

Rachel responded that mental capacity for will execution was a separate legal question from accessing the journal.

She argued the court needed to review the journal first before making any decisions about the will’s validity. The judge listened to both sides.

She then said she would review the journal privately in her chambers. She would decide what portions were relevant to the estate.

She would also decide what might need to be shared with law enforcement. Charlie’s family attorney tried to argue more.

But the judge cut him off and said her decision was final. The hearing ended.

I left through a side door to avoid Charlie’s family who were gathered in the hallway looking angry. Two days after the hearing, Rachel called me while I was at work.

She said the judge finished reading the journal. She found multiple entries that explicitly stated Charlie’s intent to end his own life.

The entries described his plan to use the tea visit as misdirection. This was to make it look suspicious when it was actually harmless.

Rachel said the judge was preparing a summary for all parties. She had already contacted Detective Napier to let her know the journal contained information that cleared me.

I asked if I could read the actual journal. Rachel said that would be up to the judge.

But the summary would include the relevant portions. She warned me the family was going to fight this hard.

They would claim Charlie wrote the entries under duress, or that they were fake somehow. I thanked her and hung up, feeling relieved, but also strange.

Part of me wanted to read what Charlie wrote. But another part of me was scared to see his actual words planning the whole thing.