Chapter 5 - The Glass House Shatters
By morning, the story was on the front page of every major newspaper in California.
"STERLING RIDGE ESTATE RAIDED IN MASSIVE TAX FRAUD PURGE: TYCOON FAMILY ARRESTED AT DAUGHTER'S TWO-MILLION-DOLLAR WEDDING."
Aerial photos of the estate showed federal transport vans parked across the pristine vineyards, state troopers hauling boxes of seized evidence out of the grand mansion, and a glorious shot of Eleanor Sterling being led away in a gray prison jumpsuit, her hair unstyled, her face shielded from news cameras by a court-appointed guard.
I spent three days in the private recovery suite at St. Helena. Clara was doing remarkably well—her lungs were fully developed, her heart rate was stable, and she was feeding with a fierce appetite that made the nurses laugh.
On Thursday morning, my hospital door opened, and Agent Cruz walked in carrying two large paper cups of dark coffee and a thick leather briefcase.
"How’s the little operative?" Cruz asked, setting a coffee on my bedside table and peeking into the glass bassinet where Clara was sleeping peacefully.
"She’s stronger than her father ever was," I replied, sitting up against my pillows. "What’s the status of the indictment?"
Cruz snapped open the briefcase, laying out five thick manila folders on my tray table.
"The grand jury met at eight this morning," Cruz said, her face lighting up with professional satisfaction. "Because of the evidence you provided over the last nine months, the District Attorney has filed forty-two felony counts against Eleanor Sterling, Seraphina Sterling, and Julian Sterling."
"What are the charges?"
"Racketeering, money laundering, grand theft, tax evasion, and conspiracy to commit labor fraud," Cruz listed off, tapping the top folder. "And because Eleanor physically forced you into that bathroom and locked the door while you were in medical distress, the DA added charges of false imprisonment and felony reckless endangerment of a minor."
I took a slow sip of the coffee. "Are they making bail?"
Cruz chuckled—a short, dry sound. "Eleanor tried to post her five-million-dollar bail using the deed to the vineyard. Unfortunately for her, the state froze all real property assets tied to Sterling Ridge forty-five minutes after her arrest. She’s sitting in a holding cell at Napa County Jail, wearing orange scrubs and complaining that the toilet paper isn't two-ply."
"And Julian?" I asked, a slight knot forming in my chest.
"Julian tried to blame everything on his mother," Cruz said, her eyes narrowing. "He gave a six-hour statement to the prosecutors claiming he was 'coerced' by Eleanor and didn't understand the documents he was signing. But then we showed his defense lawyer the audio recordings from your wiretap."
My breath hitched. "The one from last month?"
"The one where Julian explicitly instructed his accountant to open three shell companies in the Cayman Islands to avoid paying the seasonal pickers' health insurance," Cruz nodded. "His public defender took one look at that tape and told him to start thinking about a plea deal. He’s looking at twelve years in state prison."
A heavy silence settled over the room. I looked over at Clara, sleeping soundly in her pink blanket.
"He hasn't asked about her, has he?" I murmured.
"He asked his lawyer if having a newborn baby would get him a reduced sentence under house arrest," Cruz replied flatly. "The lawyer told him that considering he left the baby’s mother locked in a bathroom during labor, bringing up the child in court would probably double his sentence."
May you like
I let out a long, quiet breath. The last tiny strand of affection I had ever held for Julian Sterling snapped clean away.
"Good," I said, setting my coffee cup down. "Let’s finalize the asset seizure."
