Chapter 3 - The Interrogation

They didn't arrest her immediately.
Sylvia was smart enough to call her high-priced defense attorney before they could read her her rights. She claimed she had hired a private nurse to manage Grandma’s "dementia" and blamed the crate on rogue staff. It was a flimsy, desperate lie, but it was enough to keep her out of handcuffs for the night.
They were escorted off the property. Thomas changed the gate codes and posted two armed guards at the perimeter.
That night, I sat by Grandma’s bed. She was hooked up to an IV, looking frail but incredibly lucid. The heavy fog of the sedatives was finally lifting.
"He tried to warn me, Sarah," Grandma whispered, clutching my hand. "Your father. The night he died, he came to my room. He said Sylvia was poisoning his food. He was having chest pains. He told me he hid the true will in the clock and that I had to keep the key safe until you came home."
"Why didn't you call the police, Grandma?" I asked gently.
"I tried. The next morning, he was dead. They called it a massive coronary. When I accused Sylvia, she took my phone. She fired the loyal staff. She locked me away. She told me if I ever spoke a word to you, she’d have you dishonorably discharged or worse."
Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. My father had been murdered, and my grandmother tortured, all while I was half a world away defending strangers.
"It’s over now," I promised her, kissing her forehead. "I’m going to dismantle her entire life."
I left the room and walked into my father's study. I opened the leather briefcase Derek had tried to smuggle out. Inside were the corporate ledgers for Vance Enterprises. Sylvia wasn't just trying to steal the house; she was actively liquidating the company's assets to offshore accounts in the Caymans. She was planning to flee the country.
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I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't used since my time in military intelligence.
"Marcus," I said when the gruff voice answered on the third ring. "I need a forensic accountant, and I need a federal judge who doesn't care about Atlanta high society."