Chapter 6 - The Shattered Gates
The atmosphere outside 414 Elmcrest Court was no longer that of a quiet suburban neighborhood.
Four state police armored vehicles were parked across the manicured lawn. Two tactical teams in black body armor stood behind ballistic shields near the front steps, while news helicopters hovered overhead, their spotlights cutting through the morning mist.
A massive crowd of news reporters and local residents had gathered behind the police tape, holding phones and screaming in outrage after watching the newly released crime scene footage.
I pulled my black federal SUV onto the curb beside the command post. Sergeant Miller walked up immediately, wearing a helmet and tactical vest.
"Commander," Miller said, nodding respectfully. "They’ve barricaded the front door with heavy furniture. Hayes is inside with them, still claiming they have a right to legal sanctuary until a federal judge reviews the warrants."
"The warrants are signed by State Superior Court, Sergeant," I replied, stepping out of the car. "They have zero legal sanctuary."
Suddenly, the front heavy oak doors of the mansion creaked open three inches.
Gregory Hayes stepped out onto the porch, raising his hands, his face drenched in sweat. "Officers! Stay back! My clients are preparing a peaceful surrender, but we demand that Commander Vance step forward alone to negotiate terms!"
Sergeant Miller looked at me. "You don't have to go up there, Commander. We can breach the door in thirty seconds."
"I'll go," I said calmly. "I want to look them in the eyes when they come out."
I walked up the stone walkway, my boots crunching against the scattered glass and dirt left over from yesterday's escape. I stepped onto the grand porch, stopping four feet from Hayes.
Hayes looked terrified. The slick, arrogant lawyer from the hospital was gone; his tie was loose, and his hands were shaking violently.
"Sloan... please," Hayes whispered desperately, stepping closer to me. "It's a disaster. The video... everyone has seen it. Declan’s corporate board just terminated his contract ten minutes ago. Bellamy’s agency dropped her. The family is completely ruined."
"They aren't ruined yet, Hayes," I said flatly. "They haven't gone to prison."
The oak doors swung wide open.
Declan stepped out first. He wasn't wearing his executive attire anymore. His shirt was unbuttoned, his hair was disheveled, and his eyes were wild with fear. Behind him, Una walked slowly, supported by Callum, while Bellamy cowered near the back, hiding her face from the news helicopters roaring overhead.
"Sloan!" Declan screamed, lunging toward me before two tactical officers grabbed his arms and forced him down onto his knees on the concrete porch. "Tell them to turn the cameras off! Tell them to stop! They're destroying my life!"
I walked over, kneeling down until I was level with my ex-husband's face.
"You took a video of Veta suffocating," I whispered, my voice carrying clearly over the microphone clipped to my collar, broadcasting straight to the news trucks on the street. "You laughed. You called your daughter weak while her lungs collapsed."
"I didn't mean it!" Declan sobbed, tears streaming through the dirt on his face. "It was a joke! I was trying to diffuse the tension!"
"My daughter is in an ICU bed on a mechanical ventilator, Declan," I said, my voice dead, cold, and absolute. "Her life will never be the same. Your joke is going to cost you eight years in a state penitentiary."
Behind him, Una fell to her knees, weeping dramatically into her hands as female officers stepped forward, pulling her arms behind her back to snap heavy steel handcuffs around her wrists.
"You monster!" Una shrieked at me, her manicured nails scraping against the concrete. "We are your family! We gave you everything! You brought this shame upon our house!"
"You brought this upon yourselves," I replied, standing up and turning my back on her.
Officers moved in smoothly, clamping handcuffs around Bellamy's wrists as she shrieked and fought against the grips, hiding her face under her hair as news cameras zoomed in from every angle.
As they dragged the four of them down the porch steps toward the waiting armored transport vans, Kieran stepped out from the side of the house. He wore a simple coat, holding a small duffel bag.
He stopped in front of me, looking down at the ground.
"How is she, Sloan?" Kieran asked softly, his voice thick with guilt.
"She's stable, Kieran," I said.
Kieran pulled a small, silver drive from his coat pocket and handed it to me. "This is the master backup from Bellamy's studio computer. It has three years of recorded footage showing how they treated Veta whenever you weren't in the room. Every insult. Every time they turned off her backup alarms."
I took the drive, looking at my former brother-in-law. "Why did you stay silent for so long?"
May you like
Kieran looked back at the grand mansion, then at the police vans disappearing down the street with his family inside.
"Because I was a coward," Kieran whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "And I almost let them kill my niece. Use whatever is on that drive, Sloan. Don't leave anything standing."
