Chapter 11 - THE SHIFTING CURRENTS
Inside the lead police cruiser, a laptop mounted to the center console chimed sharply with an high-priority email notification.
The lead detective, a burly, middle-aged man named Detective Miller who had overseen the initial investigation into Sarah Vance's death eighteen months ago, leaned into the vehicle to check the screen.
His eyes widened as he opened the attached video.
On the screen, in high-definition clarity, Clara’s voice roared through the kitchen: "I was just trying to clean her up in the bucket..." followed immediately by the devastating footage of the deep, finger-shaped bruises on the seven-year-old girl's pale forearm.
Then came the audio recording from the intercom: "Sarah was going to take the company shares... She was going to ruin me."
Detective Miller’s face went completely pale. He slammed his hand down on the cruiser’s roof, shouting to the deployed officers.
"Hold your fire! Hold your fire! Lower your weapons!" Miller bellowed, stepping out from behind his car door and glaring directly at Clara, who was still putatively weeping into her handkerchief near the garage.
Clara stopped crying instantly. She lowered the handkerchief, her sharp eyes scanning the sudden change in the officers' postures.
"Detective?" Clara asked, her voice dropping its frantic tone, becoming low and suspicious. "What are you doing? He's inside! He's dangerous!"
Detective Miller didn't answer her. He drew his sidearm, keeping it pointed at the ground, and motioned for two officers to follow him as he began walking slowly toward the side of the house.
"Marcus Vance!" Miller called out, his voice firm but no longer aggressive. "This is Detective Miller! I just received your file! We know you're outside! Step out from under the deck with your hands empty!"
Marcus let out a long, shuddering breath. He kissed Lily’s forehead, gently set her down behind him in the safety of the dirt, and slowly pushed open the hinged wooden lattice panel at the base of the deck.
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He stepped out onto the wet grass, his hands raised high above his head, the cold rain washing the dirt from his face.
"I'm here!" Marcus yelled, his voice carrying over the sound of the falling rain. "My daughter is safe under the deck! The evidence is in your inbox!"
