Chapter 5 - RED-HANDED IN THE DARKIt was 2:00 AM. The streetlights along Calle Los Olivos cast long, eerie shadows across the silent neighborhood. The house stood dark, except for a faint, flickering light coming from the ground-floor kitchen window.
Andrés slid the key into the front gate—the new lock he had secretly commissioned an hour ago. The gate swung open silently. He crept across the paved driveway, avoiding the motion-sensor lights he had previously installed.
He peeked through the side window of the kitchen.
Inside, Ofelia and Brenda were frantically packing cardboard boxes with stolen valuables—silverware, expensive cookware, and gold decorations. But on the center island sat a small, dark glass bottle with a faded white label.
Ofelia was holding a pair of rubber gloves, pouring bleach down the sink basin, while Brenda was using a rag to frantically wipe down the shelves inside the kitchen pantry.
"Did you dump the rest of the tea powder?!" Brenda hissed in a panicked whisper, wiping sweat from her forehead.
"I’m trying!" Ofelia snapped back, her voice shaking with adrenaline. "If Andrés brings forensic cops here to inspect the house, and they find the rat poison and thallium extract we bought from the border market, we’re finished! Help me flush it down the utility sink!"
"I told you we should have given her a bigger dose months ago!" Brenda argued angrily. "If she had died in January like you planned, Andrés would have come home to a funeral, cried on your shoulder, and given you the rest of his Canada money! Now he knows everything!"
"Shut up and grab the bottle!" Ofelia yelled.
CRACK!
The wooden front door swung open violently, crashing against the interior wall.
Ofelia screamed, dropping the glass bottle onto the tile floor. It shattered into a dozen pieces, splashing a dark brown liquid across the white tiles.
Andrés stepped into the kitchen, his tall frame blocking the doorway. Behind him stood three uniformed officers from the State Investigative Police (AIC), along with a forensic technician carrying evidence collection kits.
Brenda backed into the kitchen counter, her face turning ghost-white. "Andrés... what... what are you doing?!"
"Just making sure you leave my house in order, Brenda," Andrés said coldly.
The forensic technician immediately stepped forward, wearing protective gear, and knelt by the shattered glass on the floor. He dipped a chemical testing strip into the spilled liquid.
Within ten seconds, the testing strip turned a deep, vibrant purple.
The technician looked up at the lead police officer. "Positive for high concentrations of industrial thallium sulphate and arsenic, Commander. Matches the toxicological profile from the hospital report."
The lead officer pulled out a pair of steel handcuffs. "Doña Ofelia Salgado, Brenda Salgado, you are under arrest for the attempted premeditated murder of Marisol Gomez Salgado, conspiracy to commit murder, and grand fraud."
"No! No! You can't arrest me!" Ofelia shrieked, kicking and flailing as the officers grabbed her arms. "I am his mother! Andrés, tell them! Tell them it's a mistake! I did it for you! She was a useless woman! She wasn't fit to be your wife!"
"You didn't do it for me, Ma," Andrés said, his voice cold as ice as he watched the officers snap the steel cuffs onto her wrists. "You did it for gold necklaces, designer bags, and casino tables. You traded your daughter-in-law's life for a luxury pickup truck."
Brenda burst into pathetic, hyperventilating sobs as an officer pulled her arms behind her back. "Andrés, please! I'm your sister! I just did what Mom told me to do! I didn't know it was poison! I thought it was just medicine to make her go away!"
"You locked her under the stairs, Brenda," Andrés said, looking at his sister with pure disgust. "You watched her lose her hair, you watched her bleed, and you laughed at her while you drove my car. You are just as guilty as she is."
The officers dragged both women out of the house into the night. Their screaming and weeping echoed down the quiet street as neighbors began opening their windows, whispering and filming the dramatic arrest on their phones.
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As the police cruiser pulled away, red and blue lights flashing against the dark walls of the house, Andrés stood alone in the empty, silent living room.
The house was finally his. But the fight was far from over.
