Chapter 4
Eleanor’s smooth, practiced denial hung in the spacious foyer like a foul odor. She stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, flanked by Officer Henderson, projecting an air of indignant innocence that could have convinced a casual observer. Her posture was rigidly correct, her hands clasped lightly in front of her dark blazer. Yet, beneath the veneer of absolute composure, a microscopic twitch of her right eyelid betrayed the stress gnawing at her insides.
Clara bristled, stepping away from Julian. The indignation burned hot enough to override her remaining shock. “I didn’t trip, Eleanor. You put your hands on my shoulders and shoved me over the rail. Julian saw the whole thing from the hallway.”
“Julian is your employee, Clara, and perhaps something more,” Eleanor retorted, turning her gaze toward the young man with a look of mild, patronizing pity. “Young people in desperate financial straits are easily influenced. It is a tragedy that Clara’s grief over her father’s passing has manifested as paranoid delusions, but fabricating criminal charges to contest a legal will is a very serious matter.”
Officer Vance looked from Eleanor to Clara, his expression unreadable. As a veteran cop, he had seen families tear themselves apart over money countless times, but cold-blooded attempted murder disguised as a domestic accident was a different tier entirely. He glanced at Julian. “Mr. Vance, you stated you witnessed the push. Tell me exactly what you saw.”
Julian stepped forward, his voice level and devoid of emotional ornamentation. “I was walking down the east corridor toward the central staircase. I had a clear line of sight to the upper balcony. I saw Mrs. Sterling push Clara over the railing. I ran and caught her before she hit the floor. There was no stumble. There was no hesitation on Mrs. Sterling’s part. It was a deliberate, two-handed shove.”
Eleanor sighed softly, shaking her head with theatrical disappointment. “Such a vivid imagination. It is truly unfortunate that Julian’s loyalty to Clara has blinded him to the truth. I was in the library reviewing probate documents when I heard a commotion, and I came out to find her dangling over the edge. I was rushing to help her.”
“You walked away,” Clara shot back, her voice rising with righteous fury. “You didn’t rush to help me. You turned your back and walked away because you thought I was already dead.”
“That’s enough,” Officer Vance interjected, raising a hand to halt the escalation. He looked directly at Eleanor. “Mrs. Sterling, regardless of what was said or seen, an allegation of attempted murder inside a secured residence requires us to secure the scene, separate the parties, and conduct a full forensic review. That includes dusting the balcony railing for fingerprints and checking the home’s security system for footage.”
At the mention of security footage, Eleanor’s composure faltered for a fraction of a second. The micro-expression was fleeting, but Julian caught it instantly. The cameras. Eleanor had forgotten, or perhaps she assumed she still controlled the central server.
“The security cameras,” Julian said quietly, locking eyes with Vance. “They cover every angle of the foyer and the upper balconies. The footage will prove everything.”
Vance nodded, his eyes hardening as he looked back at the older woman. “Mrs. Sterling, you’re coming with us down to the precinct for questioning. Do not make any moves to alter or delete data on this property, or you will face obstruction charges alongside the felony counts.”
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Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin, white line. The mask of the grieving, misunderstood matriarch finally shattered, revealing the calculating predator underneath.
***
