Chapter 1 - The Frame Job
The 911 dispatcher’s voice was a tinny buzz in my ear, demanding my location. I barely managed to choke out the address of Arthur’s Connecticut estate before the sound of sirens began echoing in the distance. They were too fast. The local precinct was at least twenty minutes away, yet the wail of police cruisers was already cutting through the howling winter wind outside.
Julian’s frail hand squeezed my wrist with terrifying strength. "Claire, you don't understand," he gasped, his sunken eyes wild with panic. "He wanted you here. He told me... he told me the patsy was coming."
"What are you talking about, Julian? I’m here to save you."
I grabbed a heavy iron fire poker from the corner of the basement and smashed it against the padlock on the radiator. Sparks flew, but the heavy metal zip-tie wouldn't budge. Panic rose in my throat like bile. The sirens grew deafening, tires crunching aggressively on the gravel driveway above.
"Arthur said he needed a scapegoat," Julian wheezed, coughing violently. "He said you hated him. He said the police would find the embezzled money in your accounts. Claire... run."
Heavy footsteps pounded on the hardwood floors upstairs. "Police! Is anyone down there?" a deep voice barked.
I stood up, raising my hands as three officers descended the stairs, their flashlights blinding me in the dim basement. But they didn't look at Julian with shock or sympathy. The lead detective, a burly man with cold eyes, walked straight over to the metal lockbox I had found open. He pulled out a stack of papers and turned to me.
"Claire Davis?" he asked sharply.
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"Yes, thank God you're here, my brother-in-law—"
"Claire Davis, you are under arrest for the kidnapping and extortion of Julian Vance," the detective interrupted, snapping handcuffs onto my wrists before I could even process the words. Arthur hadn't called me to feed his fish. He had called me to take the fall for his monstrous crimes.
