Chapter 6 - The Badge Inside the Dining Room
Heavy, synchronized boots pounded up the wooden stairs of the townhouse.
Robert frowned, looking toward the hallway. "What the hell is that? Security isn't scheduled to clear the perimeter until—"
The dining room double doors swung open wide.
Standing in the doorway wasn't private security. It was a squad of four NYPD Financial Crimes detectives, led by Detective Ray Vance—my uncle—with his badge gleaming brightly against his dark jacket. Behind him stood two federal postal inspectors holding thick manila folders.
The color drained entirely from Robert’s face. Drew’s jaw dropped open so wide I thought it might dislocate.
"Detective Vance?" Robert stammered, standing up awkwardly from his chair, trying to smooth his lapels. "There's been a mistake. This is a private family matter—"
"Shut your mouth, counselor," Ray barked, his voice echoing authoritatively off the dining room walls. He didn't even look at Robert. He walked straight past the security guards—who wisely stepped aside without a word—and stopped right in front of Drew.
"Drew Vance," Ray said calmly, pulling a pair of cold steel handcuffs from his belt loop. "You are under arrest for grand larceny, identity theft, federal wire fraud, and forgery of financial instruments exceeding one hundred thousand dollars."
The room erupted into absolute chaos.
"Are you insane?!" Drew screamed, backing away so fast her chair tipped over backward, crashing loudly onto the hardwood floor. "She's my uncle! This is a family dispute! Maggie, tell them to stop! Tell them this is a joke!"
"It's no joke, Drew," I said, stepping forward, pulling my phone from my pocket, and unlocking the screen. "You didn't just use my business account to pay your bills. You used forged signatures on Mother's home equity line, hijacked my guarantor status, and funneled over one hundred and forty thousand dollars of unauthorized corporate loans through my bookkeeping firm's routing numbers."
I looked directly at Robert, whose hands were suddenly shaking as he clutched his briefcase.
"And as for you, Robert," I continued smoothly, "helping a client launder stolen funds and file fraudulent tax complaints against a licensed bookkeeper to cover up financial fraud? That’s not just disbarment territory. That’s a felony conspiracy charge with your name written all over it."
"You... you set me up," Drew hissed, her face contorting with blind, feral rage as the detectives stepped forward and clicked the cuffs tightly around her wrists. "You ruined my life over a stupid birthday cake! You miserable, bitter bitch!"
"No, Drew," I whispered, stepping close enough for her to see the absolute, unyielding coldness in my eyes. "You built this trap yourself. I just finally stopped holding up the ceiling."
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Mother let out a piercing, heartbroken wail, collapsing forward onto the dining table, burying her face in her arms as the detectives led Drew out the front door in handcuffs.
Theo stood quietly beside me, looking up at the flashing red and blue lights of the police cruisers parked outside the window. He didn't say a word. He just reached up, grabbed my hand tighter, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
