Chapter 7 - Handcuffs at the Mansion
Victoria sat on the edge of the motel bed, her hands buried in her hair. Raymond was passed out on the floor, nursing a massive lump on his head where she had struck him with the ashtray.
Her phone buzzed. It was an email from the bank. Her shared accounts with Jonathan had been frozen. Her credit cards were declined.
“I have to run,” she muttered to herself. “I have to get out of the country.”
She scrambled to pack her designer bags, shoving clothes and loose cash into a suitcase. She didn't care about Raymond anymore. He was dead weight.
She dragged her suitcase out of the motel room and loaded it into the trunk of her car. The rain had finally stopped, leaving the night air humid and suffocating.
She turned the key in the ignition, planning to drive straight to O’Hare International Airport. She had enough cash for a one-way ticket to a non-extradition country.
But as she pulled out of the parking lot, red and blue lights exploded in her rearview mirror.
Three police cruisers swarmed her car, cutting off her escape route.
“Step out of the vehicle with your hands in the air!” a voice boomed over a megaphone.
Victoria’s heart hammered against her ribs. She threw the car into reverse, but another cruiser blocked her from behind. She was trapped.
Tears of genuine terror streamed down her face as she opened the door and stepped out into the damp street.
“Victoria Mercer, you are under arrest for the first-degree murder of Jonathan Mercer,” a stern-faced detective said, shoving her roughly against the hood of her own car and pulling her hands behind her back.
“No! You don't understand!” she shrieked, the cold steel of the handcuffs biting into her wrists. “It was his heart! He had a bad heart!”
“Save it for the judge, lady,” the detective sneered. “We’ve got the toxicology report. And we just picked up your boyfriend, Raymond. He woke up in the motel and started talking before we even read him his rights.”
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Victoria collapsed against the police car, her glamorous facade completely shattered. She had spent four years playing the perfect wife, only to lose $82 million and her freedom in the span of a single week.
As she was shoved into the back of the squad car, she looked up at the sky. She could almost hear Jonathan laughing.
