Chapter 6 - The Closing Net
The sun hadn’t even fully crested over Charleston Harbor when the heavy pounding shook the front door of our Calhoun Street home.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“Open the door! Charleston Police Department!”
Adrian bolted upright in the master bedroom bed—where he had retreated the night before, pacing like a caged animal while Summer slept in our guest room down the hall. His face was gray, stubble shadowing his hollow cheeks. He stared at me in absolute terror as I calmly sat at the vanity, brushing my hair with measured, elegant strokes.
“Evelyn... what did you do?” he whispered, his voice cracking.
“I answered Dr. Cross’s advice, Adrian,” I replied without turning around. “I buried the marriage. Now the authorities are here to handle the funeral expenses.”
The front door splintered open with a loud crack as the police forced the entry, accompanied by Marcus Vance and two federal investigators specializing in financial white-collar crime.
Heavy boots echoed up the stairs.
Within seconds, the master bedroom door swung wide open. Two uniformed officers stepped in, flanked by a detective holding a thick folder of warrants.
“Adrian Blackwood?” the lead detective asked crisply, stepping forward.
“I—I demand to speak to my attorney!” Adrian shouted, holding his hands up defensively as the officers moved in, clicking cold steel handcuffs around his wrists with practiced efficiency.
“You have the right to remain silent,” the detective recited mechanically, reading him his rights while hauling him upright.
As they dragged a weeping, frantic Adrian past the doorway, Summer appeared down the hall in her silk pajamas, hair disheveled, her eyes wide with mounting panic as she saw the flashing blue lights reflecting through the windows.
“Adrian! What’s happening?!” she screamed, rushing toward the master bedroom.
Marcus Vance stepped out from the hallway, holding a federal subpoena in one hand and a tablet displaying financial tracking records in the other. He stopped right in front of her, blocking her path.
“Ms. Summer Hale?” Marcus asked politely, flashing a brilliant, sharp smile. “You also have a few questions to answer regarding vehicular endangerment, insurance fraud conspiracy, and unlawful wire transfers.”
Summer stopped dead in her tracks, her face turning chalk-white. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
May you like
I stood up slowly from the vanity, smoothing down the front of my silk robe. I walked out into the hallway, looking down at the woman who had tried to steal my life, my wedding, and my future.
“Welcome back to Charleston, Summer,” I said quietly. “Hope you enjoy your stay.”
