Chapter 9: The Detainment
The fluorescent lights of the downtown precinct buzzed with a low, headache-inducing hum. I sat in a molded plastic chair in the corner of a sterile holding room, the smooth metal table reflecting the harsh overhead glare. Two hours had passed since two uniformed officers had approached me outside the grocery store, asking me to accompany them downtown for questioning regarding an alleged theft of confidential corporate documents from Arthur's estate.
It was a blatant fabrication, a retaliatory chess move designed to harass and intimidate me into breaking. The door clicked open, and a middle-aged detective with tired eyes and a rolled-up shirtsleeve walked in, dropping a thick manila folder onto the table.
Clara Hayes, right? he asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down heavily across from me. You're being accused of unauthorized possession of proprietary legal files belonging to Sterling Enterprises.
Those documents were given to me by Mr. Sterling to prove a case of harassment and blackmail against his former fiancée, I said, keeping my voice steady despite the dry tightness in my throat. I didn't steal anything.
The detective flipped open the folder, revealing printed copies of emails bearing my name, routed through an IP address I didn't recognize. The paper trail says otherwise, Miss Hayes. Someone logged into the corporate network from your apartment's Wi-Fi router last night. Unless you have a very good explanation, I'm holding you overnight pending a formal arraignment.
Panic fluttered in my chest, but I forced myself to breathe slowly, remembering Lily waiting with the trusted neighbor across town. Vivian's reach was longer than I had feared. She wasn't just trying to discredit Arthur; she was trying to lock me away so there would be no witness to testify about the child.
Before I could answer, the door swung open sharply. Arthur walked in, flanked by a tall, silver-haired attorney in an immaculate charcoal suit. The attorney stepped between us and the detective, placing a card on the table with deliberate slowness.
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Detective, I am Arthur Sterling's senior counsel, the attorney said smoothly. My client has already filed an affidavit establishing that these documents were shared under his direct authorization. Furthermore, we have traced the forged IP logs back to a server farm registered under Vance Holdings. Release my client immediately, or we will file a federal injunction for unlawful detention before midnight.
The detective looked at the card, then up at Arthur, whose face was a mask of cold fury. With a heavy sigh, the detective slid the paperwork back into the folder, stood up, and unlocked the handcuffs resting on the table. You're free to go, Miss Hayes. But keep your phone on.
