Chapter 7 - The Interrogation of Truth
By 2:00 AM, the Jefferson County Sheriff's Headquarters was quiet.
Spencer and his associate Marcus were locked in holding cells downstairs, facing federal charges of extortion, kidnapping, and wire fraud. The task force had seized the laptops from the warehouse, finding evidence of a massive blackmail ring targeting over fifteen wealthy families across three counties.
In an interview room on the second floor, Dale Whitmore sat at the table with me, reviewing the preliminary statements.
The door opened, and Deputy Miller stepped in, holding two cups of black coffee. He handed one to me.
"Your son's statement is solid, Conrad," Miller said. "He confirmed that Spencer intercepted him on campus three weeks ago, told him his mother had authorized his temporary relocation, and brought him to that warehouse under false pretenses. Kaden tried to leave twice, which is when Marcus bruised his cheek and tied him up."
I squeezed the hot paper cup in my hands, feeling the anger surge again. "And my wife?"
Miller hesitated, glancing at Dale. "Mrs. Ellison's statement matches the financial records. She was terrified, naive, and completely manipulated, but she didn't commit a crime. She was the victim of a high-level extortion scheme. However..." Miller paused. "The district attorney wants to know if you intend to press civil charges regarding the unauthorized equity drawdown."
I looked down at the wooden table. Ninety thousand dollars stolen. Months of deceit. The destruction of trust that had taken sixteen years to build.
"I need to talk to her alone," I said.
Ten minutes later, I walked into a quiet consultation room at the end of the hall. Colette was sitting alone at a small table, holding a paper cup of water. She had taken off the burgundy dress and was wearing a grey county sweatshirt a deputy had loaned her. Her hair was damp, her eyes swollen and bloodshot.
I sat down in the chair opposite her.
"How is Kaden?" she asked, her voice raspy and barely a whisper.
"He's asleep in the family lounge downstairs," I said. "The paramedics checked him out. No broken bones. Just bruises and severe exhaustion."
She closed her eyes, tears spilling over her lashes again. "Conrad... I don't know what to say. I ruined everything. I thought... I thought if I admitted Kaden was struggling, you would think I failed as a mother. You worked so hard, building a reputation, building this life for us... and I was so ashamed that our son was failing at that prestigious school."
"He wasn't failing, Colette," I said, my voice firm and clear. "He was struggling because he was fourteen years old and pushed into a pressure cooker miles away from home. I failed him too—by letting you send him there because I was too tired to stand my ground."
She looked up at me, her face pale in the harsh fluorescent light. "What happens now? Are you... are you divorcing me?"
I looked at the woman sitting across from me. I thought about the sixteen years we had spent together—the good years, the small victories, the home we had built, and the terrible, dark detour her vanity and fear had driven us into.
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I called Dale tonight to file for separation because I thought you were having an affair. Finding out it was extortion doesn't instantly fix the fact that you lied to me every single day for four months."
"I'll do whatever you want," she sobbed, reaching across the table to touch my hand, though she paused, waiting to see if I would pull away. "I'll go to therapy. I'll sign the house over to you. I'll work two jobs to pay back every single dollar of the equity line. Just please... don't break up our family."
May you like
I let her touch my fingers, but I didn't clasp her hand back.
"We aren't making decisions tonight," I said quietly. "Tonight, we take our son home."