Chapter 7 - The Arrest in the Gallery
Before Margaret or Mason could process the words, the heavy oak doors at the back of the courtroom swung open.
Two county sheriff’s deputies walked down the center aisle, their heavy boots clicking against the linoleum, their hands resting casually on the black leather holsters at their hips. They walked straight past the gallery benches and stopped on either side of my mother and brother.
"Margaret Hayes? Mason Hayes?" the lead deputy asked, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "You're under arrest. Turn around and place your hands behind your back."
"Arrest?!" Margaret shrieked, standing up so fast her chair screeched against the floor. "You can't arrest me! I'm a taxpayer! I'm a pillar of this community! Gideon, you ungrateful little monster, tell them to stop this right now!"
I didn't turn around. I didn't say a single word. I simply sat there, staring straight ahead at the empty judge's bench, feeling the cold, hard weight of a ten-ton burden finally sliding off my shoulders.
"Mom, shut up," Mason muttered, his face turning pale as the deputy grabbed his right wrist and snapped the steel handcuff into place with a sharp click.
"Don't you dare touch me!" Margaret thrashed violently as the second deputy secured her wrists, her designer handbag tumbling to the floor, spilling its contents across the scuffed courtroom tiles. "You'll pay for this, Gideon! You and that little tramp you married! You'll never see a dime of our family estate! You're dead to us! Do you hear me? Dead!"
Their protests echoed off the high vaulted ceilings as the deputies hauled them up the aisle toward the exit doors. Aunt Carol, who had been sitting quietly in the back row hoping to blend into the woodwork, buried her face in her hands and scurried out behind them, terrified she would be next.
When the heavy doors swung shut, sealing away their furious shouting, the courtroom returned to a profound, absolute silence.
David Vance leaned over, packing his documents back into his leather briefcase with a satisfied smile. "Well, Mr. Hayes. That went according to plan."
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"Thank you, David," I said, offering a tight, weary smile. "I couldn't have done this without you."
"You provided the evidence, Mr. Hayes. I just presented it," the lawyer replied, shaking my hand firmly. "Now go back to the hospital. Your wife is waiting for you, and she has a lot more peace of mind today than she did twenty-four hours ago."
