Chapter 6 - THE ARREST AND THE INITIAL INTERROGATION: RICHARD’S COLD CALCULATIONS
The morning sun cast a sharp, clinical light across the interrogation room at the city police precinct. Richard sat at the metal table wearing a standard-issue holding jumpsuit, his hands cuffed to a bolted-down loop. He didn't look like the tyrannical father who had ruled his household through fear; he looked cornered, defensive, and furiously calculated.
Detective Miller slid a thick manila folder across the table, the pages inside bulging with bank statements, trust fund audits, and printed frames from the hidden basement cameras.
"You're looking at felony child endangerment, unlawful imprisonment, and wire fraud, Mr. Evans," Miller said flatly, pulling out a chair and sitting down. "The digital footprint on that flash drive is extensive. You recorded every minute of her confinement."
Richard scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a dry, humorless laugh. "A parent disciplines their child, and suddenly it's a federal crime? Maya is a manipulative teenager. She exaggerated everything to get attention from her mother."
"Your daughter spent hours locked in a soundproofed concrete cell without basic sanitation while you systematically embezzled funds from her grandfather's trust," Miller countered, dropping a printed ledger sheet directly in front of him. "We tracked the wire transfers from the trust account into your personal crypto wallet to cover your failing real estate investments."
Richard’s jaw tightened, the defiant mask slipping for a fraction of a second before he hardened his expression. "Prove it. Accounts get mixed up in a messy divorce. It was a temporary loan. I intended to pay it back."
"You drained four hundred and eighty thousand dollars, Richard," Miller said, leaning forward into the light. "And your wife Patricia helped you manage the schedule of isolation to keep the girl compliant. She’s already in the next room cooperating with the prosecutor's office."
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At the mention of Patricia’s name, Richard’s eyes flashed with genuine panic. "Patricia doesn't know anything about the finances. She was just following my house rules."
"Too late for finger-pointing, Mr. Evans," Miller stood up, closing the folder with a sharp thud. "Your arraignment is scheduled for tomorrow morning. You might want to save your excuses for a judge who cares."
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