Chapter 3 - Sirens in the Foyer
The harsh flashing lights cut through the darkened hallway, casting long, erratic shadows across the priceless paintings lining the walls. Jax turned his head toward the foyer just as heavy footsteps echoed over the imported Italian marble flooring. Two uniformed police officers, hands resting near their holstered weapons, strode into the dining room with practiced authority.
“Stay exactly where you are!” the lead officer commanded, his gaze sweeping over the shattered grandfather clock, the spilled wine, and Marcus wiping blood from his face. “We received an anonymous 911 call reporting an assault and a poisoning in progress at this residence.”
Eleanor immediately dropped her haughty demeanor, transforming into a frail, victimized matriarch. She raised her trembling hands, her gold beaded dress catching the flashing emergency lights. “Thank goodness you're here, Officer! My son—he’s lost his mind. He just attacked Marcus and threatened to force me to drink toxic wine!”
Jax stood completely still, refusing to take a defensive posture. He knew how this looked. To an outsider, he was the volatile ex-con with tattooed hands towering over his elderly mother and an injured associate.
“Officer, look at the decanter,” Jax said calmly, keeping his voice level to avoid giving them any pretext to use force. “There is an unlisted substance in that wine. My three-year-old daughter was used as a messenger to warn me.”
“He’s lying!” Marcus interjected, stepping forward. “He flew into a rage because of a routine business disagreement. Look at what he did to the clock!”
The officer glanced at Jax, then at Eleanor, whose manufactured tears were disturbingly convincing. “Sir, step away from the table and put your hands behind your back. You’re coming down to the precinct for questioning.”
“I’m not resisting,” Jax said, slowly raising his hands, displaying the intricate dark ink winding up his wrists. “But before you slap cuffs on me, take a sample of that wine. And check the security footage from the conservatory. It will show my mother and her assistant discussing my removal.”
Eleanor’s face paled beneath her heavy powder, though she maintained her tight-lipped posture. “We have no such footage, Officer. The security system in the east wing has been under maintenance for three days.”
“Convenient,” Jax murmured, stepping forward to allow the officer to secure his wrists. As the cold metal clicked into place, Jax caught the eye of the second officer, who was currently kneeling down to inspect the spilled wine on the linen cloth.
The younger officer dipped a gloved finger into the dark crimson puddle, brought it near his nose, and then pulled back sharply, his expression turning grave.
May you like
“Lieutenant,” the officer called out, standing up quickly. “You need to smell this. It’s not wine. It’s heavily laced with pharmaceutical-grade potassium chloride.”
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