Julian looked at me as if I had suddenly transformed into a stranger. “Elena… what are you doing? We’re family!”
“Family doesn’t tie an elderly man to a bedpost with nylon rope, Julian,” I said, stepping closer until I was inches from his face. “Family doesn’t hit a seventy-eight-year-old father across his ribs until his skin turns black and yellow because he asked why his savings account was empty.”
Chloe gasped, taking a step back toward the wall. “He… he’s lying! Your father fell! He gets confused!”
“I took thirty-two high-resolution photographs of his injuries last night,” I replied quietly. “The rope marks on his wrists match the nylon utility cord stored in your trunk, Julian. The bruise patterns on his torso match the width of the ring you wear on your right hand.”
Detective Vance nodded to his officers. “Take them into custody.”
“Wait! No!” Julian screamed as a trooper grabbed his wrist and forced his arm behind his back. The metal handcuffs clicked loudly in the quiet hallway. “Elena! Tell them to stop! You’re my sister!”
“I was your sister,” I said, watching the steel close over his wrist. “Until I saw what you did to our father under his coat.”
Chloe tried to run toward the back door, but the second trooper cut her off, twisting her arms behind her and cuffing her before she could reach the kitchen. Her expensive pearl earring caught on her collar and fell to the floor, rolling against my shoe.
“You won’t get a dime!” Chloe shrieked, her voice echoing off the walls as she was dragged toward the front door. “The money is gone! Do you hear me?! It’s already gone!”
“We know where the money went, Chloe,” the forensic accountant spoke up from the kitchen table, opening a laptop. “We froze your offshore account in Grand Cayman two hours ago. Every dollar you transferred from his investment portfolio was flagged for seizure under state forfeiture laws.”
Julian dropped his head, a broken, ragged sob escaping his chest as the troopers led him out into the morning air.
