Chapter 8 - The Interrogation Room
Seventy-two hours later, I sat behind a two-way mirror in the county precinct alongside Darcy and the lead detective, watching Julian sweat under the harsh fluorescent lights of the interrogation room.
Gone was the arrogant smirk and the smug confidence that had defined his demeanor in my kitchen.
His suit was rumpled, his hair unkempt, and his hands trembled as he stared across the metal table at his court-appointed public defender.
“Mr. Vance,” the detective said, sliding a stack of printed financial statements and photographic evidence across the table. “Your wife’s legal team has officially submitted forensic audits tracking over four hundred thousand dollars of misappropriated trust funds into unauthorized personal investments and luxury vacations for your mother.”
Julian slammed his palms onto the table, though the outburst lacked any real authority.
“That’s a lie! As the man of the household, I had full authority to manage our marital assets!”
The detective didn’t even blink.
“There is no marital asset when the property and trust are legally shielded prior to marriage, Mr. Vance. Furthermore, your domestic battery charge has just been upgraded to a felony due to the severity of the thermal burns documented by medical examiners.”
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Through the glass, I watched Julian’s face turn the color of ash.
He looked toward the mirror, as if sensing I was standing just inches away in the dark, watching him realize that his entire parasitic lifestyle had finally reached a permanent, unbreakable wall.
