Chapter 14 - The Ashes of the Past
The international flight back to JFK landed under a heavy blanket of fog that grounded half the incoming traffic on the tarmac, forcing the passengers to wait inside the mobile lounge.
Julianna stared out the scratched glass window at the flickering runway lights, her mind replaying the text message from Zurich over and over again like a broken record.
"Attention passengers, all terminals are currently operating under restricted security protocols due to an active federal investigation," the automated intercom droned monotonously overhead.
When the lounge finally docked at the terminal, Julianna bypassed baggage claim entirely and hailed an unmarked cab waiting outside the arrivals zone.
"Take me to the Upper East Side, block of the brownstone fire," she instructed the driver, her voice hard and cold as flint.
The cab sped through the deserted highway lanes, the gray dawn breaking slowly over the East River as the charred remains of her former home came into view. Yellow police tape fluttered miserably in the morning breeze around the blackened stone shell of the building, where two fire investigators were sifting through the smoking rubble. Julianna stepped out of the cab, ignoring the shouts of a patrol officer as she walked right up to the perimeter tape and stared at the blackened doorway. An investigator in a soot-stained yellow jacket walked over to her, wiping ash from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand.
"Are you Mrs. Sterling? You shouldn't be here, this is an active crime scene," the investigator said, blocking her view of the interior.
"I need to see the body recovered from the master bedroom," Julianna said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"The coroner hasn't officially identified the remains yet due to thermal destruction, but we found a platinum wedding ring fused to the left ring finger," the investigator replied, pulling a clear plastic evidence bag from his pocket.
Inside the bag was a melted lump of metal and a charred human bone fragment—a gruesome reminder of the identity Arthur had fabricated to fake her own demise. She looked at the ring, recognizing the interior engraving immediately; it wasn't her ring at all, but the spare band Arthur had kept in his desk drawer for emergencies. He hadn't burned down the house to destroy her legacy; he had burned it down to fake his own death using her identity, leaving her to take the fall for a murder she never committed.
"He's still alive, isn't he?" Julianna asked, looking the investigator dead in the eye.
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Before the man could answer, a black helicopter swept low over the brownstone ruins, dropping a smoke canister right into the courtyard as federal sirens wailed in the distance.
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