Chapter 2 - The Handcuffs of Fairview
"Hands behind your back, please," the older officer said, pulling a pair of heavy, metallic handcuffs from his utility belt.
"Please, listen to me," Emily said, her voice shaking as the cold steel clamped around her wrists. "The box is empty. If I stole a multi-million-dollar diamond bracelet, why would I keep the empty, highly recognizable box in my own bag? That makes no sense. I would have thrown it away or hidden it outside the property."
The officer didn't look up as he secured the locks. "People do stupid things when they panic, miss. We'll let the detectives sort through the logic. Right now, you're under arrest for grand larceny."
Victoria refused to look at Emily as she was led out of the bedroom. But Julian followed them down the grand, sweeping staircase, his footsteps echoing with an ominous rhythm.
"Such a shame, Emily," Julian murmured as they reached the front foyer—the very place where her bag had sat vulnerable just hours before. "You had a bright future here. If you just tell the officers where you hid the actual bracelet, maybe my stepmother will ask the judge for leniency."
Emily stopped, turning her head to lock eyes with him. The officers paused, allowing the brief exchange.
"I don't know where the bracelet is, Julian," Emily said, her voice steadying, her fear crystallizing into a cold, sharp anger. "But I think you do. I saw your car here at two o'clock. You were standing right by this table, weren't you?"
Julian’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, his jaw tightening. "I live here, Emily. I can stand wherever I want. Officers, get this thief out of my sight."
The ride to the precinct was a blur of flashing red and blue lights against the darkening Bel Air skyline. Emily sat in the cramped, plastic backseat of the police cruiser, the handcuffs cutting into her wrists every time the car hit a bump. She wasn't thinking about the physical discomfort; she was thinking about her mother.
Emily’s mother was currently in a specialized care facility, recovering from a severe stroke. The medical bills were astronomical, and Emily’s salary from Victoria Hayes was the only thing keeping her mother from being evicted. If Emily went to prison, if she lost her job and her reputation was ruined, her mother would have nowhere to go.
Julian knew that, Emily realized with a sickening dread. Julian had access to the payroll records. He knew exactly how desperate she was for money, which made her the perfect, most believable scapegoat for a high-value theft.
At the station, Emily was processed. Her personal belongings were cataloged, her fingerprints taken, and she was placed in a small, windowless interrogation room. The fluorescent lights overhead hummed with a maddening, high-pitched frequency.
Hours passed. The door finally clicked open, and a tired-looking detective in a wrinkled grey suit walked in, carrying a thick manila folder. He sat down opposite her, tossing the folder onto the metal table.
"I’m Detective Miller," he said, opening the file. "So, Emily. Let's talk about the Hayes heirloom. It's valued at approximately 1.4 million dollars. That’s a lot of money for a girl with a mountain of medical debt. Want to tell me where it is?"
"I don't know where it is, Detective," Emily said, leaning forward, her eyes wide and honest. "Because I didn't take it. I was set up."
Miller sighed, a sound of pure exhaustion. "Everyone says they were set up, Emily. But we found the original custom-made velvet box inside your personal handbag. The security footage from the house shows you entering the master bedroom wing at 1:45 PM to deliver Victoria’s daily schedule updates. No one else went down that hall until Victoria discovered the theft at 4:00 PM."
"What about the foyer?" Emily pressed desperately. "Did you check the security cameras for the front foyer at 2:00 PM?"
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Miller frowned, looking down at his notes. "The house security manager—Julian Hayes—submitted the video logs. He stated the foyer cameras were undergoing a scheduled system update between 1:30 PM and 2:30 PM today. There is no footage for that hour."
Emily felt the room tilt. Julian had covered his tracks perfectly. The system update wasn't a coincidence. It was the window of execution.
