Chapter 6 - Ambush at the Gate
The courtyard erupted into flashing blue and red lights.
Four police cruisers blocked the driveway, their headlights cutting through the descending dusk. Julian stepped outside onto the grand porch, Margaret trailing right behind him, her composure instantly hardening into an aristocratic shield.
Evelyn stepped out from the passenger side of an unmarked black sedan. Beside her stood Marcus Ross, the county’s lead prosecutor—a man the Vance family had tried and failed to buy during the last election cycle.
"What is the meaning of this circus?" Margaret demanded, walking down the steps, her voice echoing across the courtyard. "Marcus, you are trespassing on private property. If this is about my daughter-in-law's hysterical breakdown, she is the one who assaulted me twenty minutes ago!"
Prosecutor Ross held up a manila folder, ignoring Margaret completely, his gaze locked on Julian. "Julian Vance. We are executing a search warrant for the estate, specifically the subterranean garage and all private server drives registered to Vance Logistics."
"A search warrant?" Julian asked, his voice hollow. "On what grounds?"
"The re-opened investigation into the deaths of Thomas Vance and Clara Morales," Ross announced firmly.
Margaret let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "That case was closed four years ago! Thomas was hit by a drunk driver who fled the scene! Clara had a depressive episode! You have no jurisdiction to harass us with these recycled fairy tales."
"We didn't have the black box data from Thomas's vehicle back then, Margaret," Evelyn spoke up. Her voice was steady, cutting through the flashing lights. "We do now."
Margaret froze. For the first time, a flicker of genuine terror crossed her face. "That car was totaled. It was sent to scrap."
"You paid the junkyard owner twenty grand to crush it," Evelyn said, walking forward until she was just a few feet from Julian. "Too bad he kept the car in a back lot to strip for parts. I bought it back six months ago."
Julian looked at his wife. The woman he thought he knew seemed completely transformed—she wasn't the quiet, demure wife Margaret had bullied. She was an executioner.
"Evelyn..." Julian reached out, but his hand hung uselessly in the air. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you would have protected her, Julian," Evelyn said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You always protected her. You let her walk all over you, and you let her bury my sister's memory. You didn't want the truth. You wanted peace."
"I didn't know!" Julian choked out. "I swear to God, I didn't know about Clara's baby!"
"Baby?" Prosecutor Ross interjected sharply, looking between them. "What baby?"
Evelyn's eyes widened. She turned her glare from Julian straight to Margaret. "You told him about the baby?"
Margaret didn't answer. She turned abruptly on her heel and began marching back toward the house.
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"Margaret Vance, stop right there!" Ross commanded.
A loud, sudden gunshot echoed from the eastern wing of the mansion, shattering a second-story window.
