Chapter 7 - Julian’s Desperate Play
By noon, the news had exploded across local media networks. “Prominent Holiday Party Turns Toxic: Carbon Monoxide Poisoning and Financial Fraud Scandal Rocks Suburbia.”
I sat in the waiting area of the precinct when Julian strode through the double doors. He had discarded his expensive cashmere coat, his hair was disheveled, and his legal briefcase looked like it had been packed in a hurry. He looked around the bullpen until his eyes locked onto mine.
He marched straight toward me, his face red with suppressed rage.
"Clare! You have gone completely insane!" Julian hissed, leaning over my chair. "You had my wife locked up in a maximum-security holding cell, and now your lawyers are freezing our corporate assets? Have you forgotten who I am? I represent half the judges on this circuit!"
I didn't flinch. I slowly stood up, looking down at him with absolute indifference.
"Julian, you represent a sinking ship," I said calmly. "Did your legal brilliance happen to anticipate the green leather notebook we recovered from Brooke's safe this morning?"
Julian’s breath hitched. The aggressive, arrogant posture melted away instantly, replaced by a flicker of pure panic.
"What... what notebook?" he stammered, his voice dropping an octave.
"The one where Brooke documented every single illegal wire transfer from Piper's trust fund directly into your personal accounts," I replied, stepping closer to him. "Detective Miller is drafting the arrest warrants for conspiracy to commit grand larceny and financial fraud as we speak."
Before Julian could answer, two uniformed officers stepped out from the corridor behind him.
"Julian Montgomery?" the lead officer called out, holding a pair of heavy steel handcuffs.
Julian spun around. "This is a mistake! I am an officer of the court—"
"Step behind your back, sir," the officer commanded coldly.
May you like
As the heavy steel cuffs clicked around Julian’s wrists, he cast one final, venomous glare in my direction. "You won't get away with this, Clare. Our lawyers will drag this through the courts for ten years!"
"Ten years?" I smiled faintly. "Julian, you won't even last ten months."
