Chapter 6 - The Broken Car’s Secret
The grand entrance foyer of the Vance estate was blindingly bright beneath the crystal chandeliers.
Captain Miller, a burly, gray-haired detective with tired eyes, stood beside two uniformed officers near the double marble staircase. Victoria Sterling stood near the grand piano, dabbing at her dry eyes with a lace handkerchief while her brother, Carter Sterling, hovered behind her in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit. Carter was nervously adjusting his gold wristwatch, his eyes darting toward the security monitors near the archway.
"I am simply devastated, Captain," Victoria sniffled, her voice carrying across the marble hall. "To think that while my fiancé's son was nearly killed, one of the domestic staff used the confusion to slip into my private quarters and plunder my jewelry box! That necklace belonged to my grandmother!"
"We have procedures to follow, Miss Sterling," Captain Miller said, turning as the elevator doors chimed.
Julian stepped out into the foyer, his posture rigid and commanding. Elena walked beside him, pale but composed, her arm securely tucked in her black sling. Behind them walked Noah, who clung tightly to Elena’s skirt with one hand.
"What is the meaning of this, Miller?" Julian said coldly, descending the steps. "You know better than to bring sirens to my home without calling my legal counsel."
"Julian, I apologize," Captain Miller said respectfully, holding up a placating hand. "A formal felony theft report was filed through dispatch. By law, we have to investigate. Miss Sterling signed an affidavit naming Miss Ross."
Carter Sterling stepped forward, a sneer curling his lip. "Come on, Julian. Be reasonable. Look at the girl. She makes twenty-five dollars an hour. A five-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond necklace goes missing during an emergency? It’s an open-and-shut case. Check her locker. Check her room."
"Nobody is checking anything," Julian warned, stepping between the police and Elena. "Miss Ross has been under my personal supervision since the incident occurred."
"Oh, really, Julian?" Victoria cried, her voice sharpening with venomous spite. "Or has the little maid already wrapped you around her finger with her little hero act? Officer, search her apron! Search her pockets right now!"
Before Captain Miller could intervene, Noah suddenly let out a loud gasp.
The five-year-old let go of Elena’s skirt and darted forward across the polished floor, heading straight for Carter Sterling.
"Noah, stop!" Julian ordered.
Noah didn't stop. He ran directly up to Carter, dropped to his knees, and pointed at the bottom of Carter’s tailored trousers.
"My car!" Noah yelled, his small voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "You took my car!"
Everyone froze.
Carter took a nervous step back, his face flushing crimson. "What are you talking about, kid? Get away from me!"
"Look!" Noah shouted, pointing at the floor where Carter had just been standing.
There, tucked partially beneath the fringe of an antique Persian rug where Carter had tried to kick it, was Noah’s vintage wooden toy car.
The toy car that had been resting on the terrace floor—right at the base of the glass pyramid when it collapsed.
"Why would Mr. Sterling have your toy car, Noah?" Julian asked, his voice deadly calm as he walked toward them.
"Because he picked it up!" Noah cried, looking up at his father with wide, honest eyes. "When the lady kicked the pole, the other man was behind the curtain too! The man with the shiny gold watch! He bent down, and the car got stuck on his string!"
Julian’s eyes dropped to the small wooden toy.
Wrapped tightly around the rear axle of the toy car was a thin, high-tensile piece of transparent monofilament wire—the kind used by stagehands to rig heavy curtains or trigger drops from a distance. And wedged into the wheels, tangled in the wire, was a broken piece of jewelry.
It wasn't a diamond necklace.
It was a heavy, custom-designed 18-karat gold cufflink, shaped like an anchor and engraved with the initials: **C.S.**
Carter Sterling.
Captain Miller blinked, looking from the cufflink to Carter’s left wrist.
Carter’s left French cuff was empty. The fabric was torn at the buttonhole.
A suffocating silence swept through the grand foyer.
Carter’s eyes widened in sheer panic. He instinctively reached to cover his left wrist, but it was too late. Every single eye in the room was locked onto his bare cuff.
"Carter..." Victoria gasped, her voice trembling as the color drained completely from her face.
"It’s... it’s not mine!" Carter stammered, backing toward the front doors, his hands shaking violently. "The kid is lying! The maid planted that! She’s trying to frame us!"
"You fool," Julian whispered.
The look on Julian Vance’s face was no longer human. It was the face of an apex predator that had finally spotted the hyena that tried to kill his cub.
May you like
"Marcus," Julian said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "Lock the doors."
***
