Chapter 3 - THE INTERROGATION ROOMThe interrogation room at the Marion County Sheriff’s Headquarters smelled of stale coffee, old floor wax, and fear.
Marcus sat across the metal table, his handcuffs clicking rhythmically against the steel surface every time he shifted his weight. His expensive silk shirt was wrinkled, his hair disheveled. The smug, arrogant facade he had worn outside the precinct was entirely gone, replaced by a frantic, sweating desperation.
I walked into the room, tossing a recording device onto the center of the table. I didn't sit down immediately. I stood behind the chair, staring down at my brother with a gaze that had broken hardened insurgent financiers and cartel enforcers.
"You look tired, Marcus," I said evenly.
"Maya, come on, let's talk about this," Marcus blurted out, his voice cracking with a high-pitched whine. "We're family! You can't actually do this to your own flesh and blood over a misunderstanding about some money—"
"A misunderstanding?" I slammed my palms flat against the table, leaning in close. The sudden noise made him jump violently in his chair. "You watched a woman beat our seventy-eight-year-old father with a baseball bat! You conspired to have him locked in a psychiatric ward so you could steal his life savings! That isn't a misunderstanding, Marcus. That is attempted murder, elder abuse, conspiracy, and grand larceny!"
"Chloe made me do it!" he shrieked, instantly throwing his wife under the bus without a second hesitation. The cowardice was breathtaking. "She said if we didn't get the house, her debts were going to catch up with us! She threatened to leave me! I didn't want to hurt Dad, Maya, I swear to God—"
"Save your breath for a federal judge," I interrupted, pulling out the forged power of attorney document and sliding it across the table. "This signature is yours, isn't it? You held the pen while you guided his limp hand, or you forged it yourself while he was sleeping. Which one was it?"
Marcus stared at the paper, his lips trembling. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The trap was absolute. There was no way out, no legal loophole, no family charm that could save him now.
May you like
Before he could answer, the door swung open, and Captain Vance stepped inside, holding a glowing tablet.
"Agent Vance," Vance said, his face grim. "You need to see this. We just executed a search warrant on Chloe’s vehicle and their home. You won't believe what our deputies found in the trunk."
