Chapter 10 - The Lake House Secret
The small metal table crashed against the wall as Clara lunged forward, her hands clenched tightly around the fabric of Arthur’s suit jacket. Arthur didn't fight back; he simply looked up into her enraged, tear-stained face with a haunting calm.
"Clara, get off him right now! Step back or you're going in a cell!" Officer Vance shouted, jumping to his feet and grabbing Clara by the shoulders, physically pulling her away from the table while the two backup officers moved in to secure the perimeter.
Clara thrashed against Vance’s grip, her blonde hair flying loose from her headband, her voice cracking with decades of accumulated grief.
"Let me go! He knows where he put him! He killed him and put him under the concrete! Tell me, Arthur! Tell me where my father is!" Clara sobbed, her knees finally buckling under the emotional weight.
Vance gently guided Clara down into a chair, signaling for a cup of water from the hallway. He turned back to Arthur, whose expression remained chillingly composed despite the violent outburst.
"Arthur, you heard her," Vance said, his voice stern and commanding. "Where is Edward Miller's body? If you tell us now, it will go toward your cooperation plea."
Arthur let out a slow, heavy sigh. He picked up the faded black-and-white photograph from the table and slid it back into his breast pocket.
"His body isn't on this property, Vance," Arthur said quietly, looking directly at Clara, who was now staring at him with tear-filled, venomous eyes. "It never was."
Elena, who had just arrived at the station with their mother resting in a patrol car outside, rushed into the interview room. She stopped in her tracks, catching her breath as she looked between Clara and Arthur.
"What are you talking about?" Elena demanded, stepping closer to the table. "Where is he, then?"
Arthur looked at Elena, a faint glimmer of genuine affection softening his hard features for a fleeting second.
"When Edward threatened to expose the zoning fraud back in '94, he didn't get killed in a back alley," Arthur explained, folding his hands back on the metal table. "He packed a bag, took the family sailboat out onto Miller's Lake during the squall, and sank it himself. He didn't want to drag his family down with him when the federal indictments dropped."
Clara stopped crying. She stared at Arthur, her jaw trembling. "You're lying. You're lying to save your own skin! My father loved this town; he would never abandon us!"
"He didn't abandon you, Clara," Arthur said firmly, reaching into his pocket once more. This time, he pulled out a heavy, tarnished brass key with a faded leather tag attached to it. He slid it across the metal table toward her.
"He left that in the lockbox of the old boathouse at the lake," Arthur whispered. "The lockbox that only opens with the combination from his wedding anniversary. Go check it yourself."
Clara stared at the key as it rested inches from her fingertips. She looked up at Vance, then back at Arthur.
May you like
Without a word, Clara snatched the key off the table, turned on her heel, and bolted out of the interview room, leaving the heavy metal door swinging wildly on its hinges.
---
