The heavy mahogany doors swung open before Adrian even reached the brass handles. Outside on the circular driveway, five Dallas Police cruisers sat with their emergency lights strobing blue and red across the white pillars.
Officer Hayes: Adrian Vance? Step back from the doorway, sir.
Adrian: Take her. She's the one you're looking for.
Adrian thrust Victoria forward onto the stone porch. Two uniformed officers immediately caught her by the arms, twisting her wrists behind her back.
Victoria: What is the meaning of this? Do you know who my father is? Unhand me this instant!
Detective Ross: Victoria Sterling, you are under arrest for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit kidnapping, and tampering with evidence.
Victoria: On what grounds? What evidence do you have against me?
Detective Ross: We executed a search warrant at the St. Jude Rest Home in Pecos forty minutes ago. The medical director confessed everything. He gave us your signed wire transfers.
Victoria: That's privileged financial information! You can't use that!
Detective Ross: The district attorney signed the emergency wire fraud indictment ten minutes ago. You also have the right to remain silent, and I strongly suggest you use it.
The officers pushed Victoria down into the back seat of the closest patrol cruiser, her white satin train bunched up against the dirty floor mats.
Victoria: Marcus Vance was in on it too! Arrest him! He signed the trust authorizations!
Detective Ross nodded to two officers waiting on the porch steps.
Detective Ross: Mr. Marcus Vance, step outside please. We have a separate warrant for your financial ledgers.
Marcus stood in the doorway, his skin gray and lifeless, his shoulders slumped as he offered his wrists without saying a single word.
Clara: Adrian...
Clara stood by the foyer archway, clinging to the wooden pillar for support, her eyes wide as she watched the flashing lights.
Adrian: It's over, honey. They're never coming back.
Clara: Leo... is he really here?
A soft patter of sneakers sounded on the grand staircase behind them. The house nanny, trembling in her uniform, held the hand of a four-year-old boy with messy brown curls and bright green eyes.
Leo: Daddy? Why are there police cars outside?
Clara dropped to her knees right there in the entryway, her tears spilling onto the floorboards.
Clara: Leo... my sweet boy.
The little boy stopped halfway down the steps. He tilted his head, his small fingers letting go of the nanny's apron.
Leo: Mommy?
Clara: Yes, baby. Mommy's home. Mommy found her way home.
Leo broke into a run down the remaining steps, throwing his arms around Clara's neck. She buried her face into his soft sweater, weeping so hard her shoulders shook uncontrollably.
Adrian: You don't have to hide anymore, Clara. Both of you are coming home with me today.
Clara: We don't have our home anymore, Adrian. They sold our loft.
Adrian: Then we'll buy a new one. A house with a big yard, fifty miles away from this family and their dirty money.
Leave a Comment