Chapter 4 - The Fall of Major Brooks
Ethan Brooks didn't make it far.
His panic had clouded his judgment.
Instead of taking the discreet back roads, he merged straight onto the interstate.
Within fifteen minutes, state troopers had spotted the speeding black SUV.
Three cruisers boxed him in, forcing him to the shoulder of the highway.
Ethan slammed his hands against the steering wheel.
"Damn it!" he screamed, spit flying from his lips.
Diane was sobbing uncontrollably in the passenger seat.
"What do we do, Ethan? What do we do?"
"Shut up!" he barked at her.
He looked in the rearview mirror.
Officers were drawing their weapons, using their car doors for cover.
“Driver, turn off the engine and throw the keys out the window!” a voice commanded over a megaphone.
Ethan took a deep breath.
He smoothed down his shirt.
He put on the calm, authoritative face that had served him so well in the military.
He rolled down the window and tossed the keys onto the asphalt.
He opened the door and stepped out, keeping his hands visible.
"Officers, please, there's been a terrible misunderstanding," Ethan shouted confidently.
"I am Major Ethan Brooks, United States Army."
"My wife is having a severe mental breakdown. She threatened my mother."
"I was just trying to get us to safety."
The officers didn't lower their weapons.
"Turn around and interlock your fingers behind your head!"
Ethan frowned. This wasn't working.
"Listen to me! I'm a decorated officer! You can call my base commander!"
"Do it now, Major, or we will use force!"
Realizing his charm was useless, Ethan slowly turned around.
He laced his fingers behind his head.
Two officers moved in quickly, securing heavy steel handcuffs around his wrists.
They patted him down, roughly shoving him against the side of his own vehicle.
"You're making a huge mistake," Ethan hissed as they read him his rights.
"No, Major," an older trooper replied, pulling a printed transcript from his belt.
"The mistake was thinking a federal investigator wouldn't flag your plates and transmit a warrant straight to our dashboard computers."
Ethan’s stomach dropped.
Margaret.
She hadn't just called the local police.
She had mobilized her federal network the second he drove away.
While Ethan was being shoved into the back of a squad car, an army of forensic accountants and crime scene investigators descended upon the estate.
Margaret had given them full access.
They cracked open Ethan’s locked office.
Inside his safe, they found everything Olivia had warned them about.
The forged power of attorney.
The modified life insurance documents.
The offshore bank accounts where he had been funneling the estate's liquid assets.
And a locked box containing vials of unprescribed medication.
The blue pills.
The physical evidence perfectly corroborated the audio recording.
Back at the highway, Diane Brooks was pulled from the car.
She fell to her knees, weeping, begging the officers for mercy.
She blamed Ethan. She swore she was just following her son's orders.
But the police didn't care.
They cuffed her just the same.
The perfectly manicured mother-in-law was shoved into a cruiser, her cream-colored dress stained with highway dirt.
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The reign of terror was over.
The empire they had tried to build on Olivia's suffering had crumbled in less than two hours.
