Chapter 4 - The House of Deceit
The silence that followed Detective Miller's words was deafening.
Andrew’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. His hands began to shake at his sides. Beside him, Barbara stiffened, her jaw dropping as she looked from Miller to her son.
"She's... she's delirious," Andrew finally choked out, his voice cracking into a high pitch. "She suffered a head trauma! The doctor told Amanda she had a concussion! You can't take the word of a concussed child over her own father!"
"I am her mother," I cut in, stepping directly into his line of sight, my hands balled into tight fists. "Her only legal guardian. You never adopted her, Andrew. You never signed the papers because you said the court fees were too high. And she knows exactly what you did to her."
"Amanda, please, let's talk in private," Andrew pleaded, his voice breaking as he reached for my sleeve. "I love Katie! You know I love her! Why would I ever hurt our little girl?"
"Step back, sir," Detective Miller ordered, placing a firm palm against Andrew's chest. "Mr. Cole, I am officially asking you to accompany me downtown for questioning. You are not under arrest at this moment, but if you refuse, I will obtain a warrant based on the victim's sworn testimony and the vehicle match."
"He isn't going anywhere!" Barbara screeched, grabbing Andrew's elbow. "Andrew, don't say a word! Call Harold! Call our lawyer right now!"
"Go with the detective, Andrew," I whispered, the hatred burning in my throat like acid. "Because if you ever step foot inside my father's house again, I will have you arrested for trespassing."
Andrew looked at me, and for the first time in eight years, the mask slipped completely. The gentle, soft-spoken man I thought I had married disappeared. In his eyes was a cornered, vicious animal—desperate, cowardly, and furious.
"You think you're so righteous, Amanda?" he hissed, leaning past Miller's arm, his teeth bared. "You think you can just throw me away after everything I gave you? That house wouldn't even be standing if I hadn't paid the property taxes two years ago!"
"You paid the taxes with my savings account, Andrew!" I shouted back, tears finally spilling over my lashes not from sorrow, but from incandescent rage. "You stole my father's legacy, and now you tried to kill my child!"
"Come with me, Mr. Cole," Miller said, gripping Andrew's bicep with an iron hold and steering him toward the elevators.
Barbara stood frozen in the middle of the hallway as two officers escorted her son away. She turned on me, her eyes venomous, her chest heaving beneath her purple silk blouse.
"You have destroyed this family," Barbara spat, pointing her finger inches from my nose. "You were nothing when my son found you! A broke single mother working forty hours a week for scraps! We gave you status! We let you into our circle! And the moment my son hits a rough patch, you turn on him like a feral dog!"
"Get out of this hospital, Barbara," Sarah Vance commanded, stepping between us, her voice vibrating with authority. "If you take one more step toward my client, I will have hospital security restrain you on the floor and file an immediate emergency protective order. And by the way—I already notified the county registrar. That deed in your purse? If it has a forged signature, you’ll be sharing a cell block with your son before sunset."
Barbara stared at Sarah, then sneered at me, clutching her designer bag against her ribs like a shield. "You'll regret this, Amanda. You have no idea what you're dealing with. Andrew has friends. My family has influence. By tomorrow, you won't even have a roof over your head."
She turned on her designer heels and marched toward the exit, her footsteps echoing sharply off the linoleum.
I stood there, trembling, the weight of the last twenty-four hours pressing down on my chest until I could barely breathe. Sarah caught my elbow, guiding me gently back into the consultation room.
"Breathe, Amanda," Sarah said softly, pulling out a chair for me. "Drink some water. We have work to do."
May you like
"I have to go to the house," I whispered, wiping my face with the back of my hand. "Whatever they're doing with the mortgage, whatever documents they're trying to hide... it's all in Andrew's desk. He keeps a locked firebox in the study. He always told me it was just his family's trust papers."
"I'm coming with you," Sarah said firmly. "I'll arrange for a trusted colleague from my firm to sit right outside Katie's room with private security. Nobody touches that door without your personal word. But we need to see what Andrew was planning before his mother’s lawyers try to clean out that office."
