Chapter 8 - The Warrant
Four uniformed police officers and two plainclothes detectives flooded into the dining room, their heavy tactical boots thundering against the hardwood floors.
Leading the squad was Detective Miller—a broad-shouldered man with a sharp, stern face and a gold badge clipped to his belt. Beside him stood Nurse Evelyn, wearing her dark blue hospital parka, pointing directly at Derek.
"Derek Bennett!" Detective Miller shouted, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from his utility belt. "Step away from the victim immediately! Hands where we can see them!"
Derek froze mid-stride, his hand still raised in the air, looking wildly between the armed officers and the horrified faces of his dinner guests.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Arthur Bennett shouted, stepping forward aggressively. "I am a senior corporate partner! You cannot enter this private residence without—"
"We have a signed felony warrant for domestic battery, aggravated assault, and witness intimidation, sir," Detective Miller interrupted coldly, stepping directly into Derek’s space. "Issued twenty minutes ago by a county judge based on medical forensic evidence provided by Sterling Veterans Emergency Wing."
"She slipped on the ice!" Derek screamed, struggling as two officers grabbed his arms and forced them violently behind his back. "She’s lying! She’s a crazy, vindictive bitch who forged financial records and fell down the stairs!"
"The angle of the spiral fracture on her humerus is entirely inconsistent with a slip-and-fall, Mr. Bennett," Detective Miller said calmly as the steel handcuffs clicked tightly around Derek’s wrists. "It matches a high-impact directional shove from a standing position. Furthermore, we recovered your thumbprint records from the outdoor storm latch mechanism."
The room gasped in unison.
Victoria covered her mouth, staring at Derek with utter disgust. The junior partners pulled their wives back, stepping away from the head of the table as if Derek were contagious.
"Michael! Help me!" Derek pleaded, turning his head frantically toward Michael Stanton as the officers began hauling him toward the foyer. "Call our criminal division! Get me a lawyer!"
Michael Stanton picked up his napkin, slowly wiped his mouth, and tossed it onto his unfinished plate of lobster bisque.
"As of eight-twelve tonight, Derek, you are officially terminated from Stanton, Vance & Associates," Michael said, his voice cold enough to freeze water. "By tomorrow morning, every bar association in the country will have these financial files. You aren't going to need a firm lawyer, my boy. You're going to need a public defender."
May you like
"Dad! Mom!" Derek shrieked as he was dragged across the Persian rug. "Do something!"
Eleanor sat in her chair, staring blankly at the silver menu booklet, her face completely pale, unable to speak a single word. Arthur sank back into his seat, burying his face in his hands as the reality of his family's total destruction settled over the room.
