Chapter 7 - BELOW THE OAK FLOORS
"Ma'am, we need to take you to the hospital to get those stitches," the paramedic said, shining a small flashlight into my eyes to check my pupil response. "You might have a concussion."
"Give me five minutes," I told the paramedic gently.
I walked over to Sergeant Ramirez, who was writing notes in his small black notepad while another officer began stringing yellow crime scene tape across the dining room entrance. Charles was already furiously whispering into his phone in the corner, calling the family’s high-priced corporate defense attorneys.
"Sergeant," I said softly, stepping close so Charles wouldn't hear.
"Mrs. Sterling, you should really let the medics get you to the ER," Ramirez said, looking at me with genuine sympathy.
"I will. But before you leave this property, you need to execute a search of the lower level."
Ramirez paused, his pen hovering over the paper. "The lower level?"
"The basement," I clarified, keeping my eyes fixed on Eleanor, who had frozen mid-sentence in her frantic conversation with an aunt. Her head whipped around toward me, her eyes wide with sudden, paralyzing horror.
"Ma'am, our call was for a domestic violence incident," Ramirez explained carefully. "Unless there's immediate probable cause or a warrant, searching other areas of the home—"
"Check the basement under the authority of witness testimony," I interrupted, leaning closer. "A member of this household informed me that evidence of prior violence and illegal activity is being hidden down there. If you don't check it now, Charles Sterling will have his security team wipe it clean the second you drive off."
Ramirez looked at my bleeding head, then turned his gaze toward Charles and Eleanor.
Eleanor’s face was no longer pale—it was practically translucent. She took three hurried steps toward us. "Sergeant! She is hysterical! She suffered a head injury and she's making wild, baseless accusations to ruin our reputation!"
Her extreme reaction was all the evidence Sergeant Ramirez needed. A seasoned officer knows what fear looks like.
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"Officer Davis," Ramirez called out to his partner. "Secure the basement door. We're going to hold the perimeter until we get a search consent or a magistrate on the phone."
Eleanor let out a choked, strangled gasp, clutching her throat as if she couldn't catch her breath.
