Chapter 3 - The Blood on the Rug
"You insolent little woman," Eleanor snarled, trying desperately to recover her regal composure as she descended three steps, glaring down at me like I was vermin. "Did you orchestrate this circus? Did you call in favors from some small-town deputy because your little gold-digger daughter ran away in the middle of the night?"
"Ran away?" Marcus Graham stepped up beside me, holding up a certified red-stamped federal document. "Mrs. Sterling, I am Director Graham of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. We are executing a federal warrant under the Violence Against Women Act, interstate conspiracy, and federal human trafficking statutes."
Liam laughed nervously, a high-pitched, brittle sound that betrayed the panic rising in his chest. "Trafficking? Are you insane? Chloe is my wife! We had an argument. She walked out of the house on her own two feet! I have no idea where she went!"
"Is that why your right knuckles are split open to the bone, Liam?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm.
Liam instinctively pulled his hands behind his back. "I hit a punching bag at the gym this morning. That's none of your business."
"And the blood in your trunk?" Marcus chimed in. "Our thermal and chemical units outside just ran luminol through the trunk of your luxury sedan parked in the carriage house. We have high concentrations of fresh hemoglobin on the carpet liner. Along with hair fibers matching your wife's DNA."
Liam stumbled backward, hitting the ornate mahogany railing of the banister.
"Shut up, Liam! Don't say another word!" Eleanor barked, grabbing her son’s shoulder with talons of steel. She glared at me, her eyes burning with pure, distilled hatred. "Your daughter was an uneducated mistake, Sarah! Liam was destined for politics! He cannot have a common, lower-class nobody dragging him down with a bastard child while he runs for the senate! We offered her three million dollars to sign the non-disclosure agreements, abort the child, and vanish to Europe! She refused! She brought this upon herself!"
"She brought it upon herself?" I echoed, stepping onto the first riser of the marble staircase.
"She defied us!" Eleanor spat, dropping the mask entirely, her face twisting into a hideous sneer of pure aristocratic privilege. "She screamed that she loved him! She threatened to go to the press! Nobody threatens the Sterling family in our own home! Liam merely disciplined his wife, and I ensured she understood her place in this world! If she died in that ditch, then nature simply took out the trash!"
A stunned hush fell across the agents in the room.
I didn't blink. I pulled a small, silver thumb drive from my pocket and handed it to Marcus.
"Marcus, tell me the audio feed on my lapel mic is transmitting directly to the magistrate's server."
"Crystal clear, Sarah," Marcus smiled, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Full confession on a class-A felony attempt of aggravated murder of a mother and an unborn child. Recorded and backed up to federal cloud servers."
Eleanor froze, the realization slamming into her chest like a physical blow. Her mouth opened and closed silently, her chest heaving beneath her silk robe.
"You... you set me up," she whispered.
"I didn't set you up, Eleanor," I said, climbing the stairs until I stood just two feet away from her, towering over her trembling frame. "You did this to yourself because you spent seventy years believing poor people don't fight back."
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"Call Judge Harrison!" Liam panicked, grabbing his mother’s arm, his eyes wide with unbridled terror. "Mom, call him right now! Use the secure line!"
"Judge Harrison was arrested forty-five minutes ago by federal marshals in Rhode Island, Liam," Marcus announced from the foyer. "Along with your offshore banking trustees in Zurich. While you were beating your pregnant wife, our forensic team spent the night seizing every asset your family hid to avoid federal taxes over the last twenty years. You aren't billionaires anymore. You're broke federal suspects."
