Chapter 6
The fluorescent lights of the central police precinct buzzed with a relentless, low-frequency hum that grated against Sarah’s frayed nerves. It was past midnight, yet the station remained active with night-shift detectives, rustling paperwork, and the clatter of plastic coffee cups. Sarah sat on a hard wooden bench in the waiting corridor, the wool blanket still wrapped loosely around her shoulders. Lily was curled up beside her, fast asleep with her head resting in Sarah’s lap, her breathing deep and even.
Chief Henderson pushed open the heavy glass door of his private office and motioned for Sarah to step inside. She carefully eased Lily’s head onto her folded yellow cardigan on the bench before slipping quietly into the office.
"Sit down, Sarah," the chief said, gesturing to a worn leather chair across from his metal desk. A thick manila folder labeled Miller Investigation lay open before him.
Sarah sat down, folding her hands in her lap. "Have they said anything?"
"Arthur is maintaining a stubborn, calculated silence," Chief Henderson replied, adjusting his glasses. "He’s requested a high-priced corporate defense attorney from the city. He thinks he can treat this like a hostile corporate takeover—buy his way out of the liability and paint you as unstable."
"And Clara?" Sarah asked, her voice steady and cold.
"Clara is singing a very different tune," the chief said with a dry, humorless smirk. "She spent the last two hours trying to convince my detectives that the entire plot was Arthur’s exclusive idea. She claims she was coerced into participating under duress, and that she only wore the wedding dress because Arthur threatened to ruin her social standing if she tried to call off the ceremony."
Sarah let out a bitter, exhausted laugh. "Typical. They spent six months planning this behind my back, sharing bank statements and legal documents to strip my assets. There was no duress, Chief. Clara wanted my house, my company shares, and my husband just as badly as Arthur wanted my money."
"We suspected as much," Henderson said, pulling a series of printed bank transfer records from the file. "Our financial crimes unit accessed Arthur’s personal laptop from the venue. We found a paper trail of embezzled funds moving from your shared accounts into an offshore shell corporation controlled jointly by Arthur and Clara. They didn't just try to bury you; they planned to declare you legally missing and liquidate your entire estate by the end of the month."
Sarah stared at the financial records, the final pieces of the puzzle snapping into place. The sudden coldness in Arthur’s demeanor over the past year, the mysterious business trips, the late-night phone calls—it all made sickening sense.
"Can we use this in court?" Sarah asked, her eyes hardening with resolve.
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"Absolutely," Henderson nodded. "It establishes clear motive, premeditation, and financial gain. They aren't just looking at attempted murder charges anymore. They’re looking at grand larceny, fraud, and conspiracy. They’re not going to walk away from this."
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