Chapter 6 - The Interrogation Room: Beaten Under PressureBy late afternoon, Blake Harrington was transferred from the local precinct to the federal holding facility downtown. The slick, arrogant confidence he had flashed outside the Oakwood Legacy Club just twenty-four hours earlier was completely gone. His expensive suit was rumpled, his hair was messy, and his eyes were bloodshot from panic and lack of sleep.
I sat alone across from him in the sterile, windowless interrogation room, a single halogen bulb casting a harsh light over the metal table.
When the heavy steel door swung open and two guards pushed Blake into the chair opposite me, he didn't look angry. He looked defeated.
"Ava," he muttered, his voice raspy and exhausted. "You... you actually did this. You brought the whole damn federal government down on us."
"I didn't bring the government down on you, Blake," I replied calmly, resting my hands flat on the table. "You brought it on yourself the moment you decided to use defense research funds and church non-profits as your personal ATM."
Blake let out a hollow, bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You think you're so smart, don't you? Colonel Ava Lane. Big military hero protecting the country. But you don't know how the real world works. People like your father and me—we built networks. We played the game. You just sit behind a computer screen and follow rules."
"And look where your game got you," I countered smoothly. "Federal prison, asset forfeiture, corporate blacklisting, and a co-conspirator father-in-law who threw you under the bus the second the cuffs came out."
Blake flinched. The mention of Reverend Whitmore struck a nerve.
"Charles is a coward," Blake hissed, leaning forward, his eyes flashing with sudden venom. "He knew about the foreign accounts! He signed off on the third-quarter distributions knowing damn well the money wasn't coming from local church donors! He wanted the prestige, the new sanctuary wing, the community influence, and he expected me to do the dirty work so his hands stayed clean!"
"Then why did you protect him on stage yesterday?" I asked.
"Because I thought we were a team," Blake spat. "I thought if I took the heat, the family lawyers would bail me out. But the second you dropped that federal indictment, he looked at me like I was a stranger."
"You were never family to him, Blake," I said softly. "None of us were. To Reverend Charles Whitmore, people are either assets or liabilities. And right now, you're the biggest liability in the state of Georgia."
Blake slumped back into his chair, staring blankly at the table. "What happens to me now?"
"Cooperation is your only remaining option," I told him, standing up and buttoning my jacket. "Tell the U.S. attorney every name, every shell company, and every foreign contact involved in your network. If you hold back a single detail, you'll spend the rest of your natural life behind federal bars."
As I turned toward the door, Blake’s voice stopped me one last time.
"Ava..."
I paused, looking back over my shoulder.
May you like
"Were you ever... proud of anything your family built?" he asked quietly.
"No, Blake," I answered without hesitation. "Because everything you and my father built was built on lies. And lies always collapse."
