CHAPTER 1 — THE DETECTIVE WHO KNEW MY NAME
THE FALL THAT EXPOSED MY FAMILY
“Where is Marcus?”
Detective Grant’s voice carried across the wooden deck and down toward the river.
For several seconds, nobody answered.
My brother Tyler stood beside the damaged railing, one hand hidden behind his back. My mother, Diane, remained near the patio doors, perfectly composed despite the distant sound of my weak cries rising from below.
“Marcus left earlier,” she finally said. “He was upset about the will.”
Detective Grant studied her face.
“His vehicle is still parked outside.”
“He went for a walk.”
“In dress shoes?”
My mother’s expression tightened.
Before she could invent another explanation, one of the paramedics shouted from the riverbank.
“We found someone down here!”
Tyler’s face lost all color.
Detective Grant moved toward the railing and looked over the edge. His eyes met mine as two paramedics carefully made their way across the rocks.
I couldn’t feel my legs.
Every breath sent pressure through my back, but I forced myself to remain conscious.
Grant looked up at Tyler.
“You said your brother left.”
Tyler swallowed.
“I thought he did.”
The paramedics stabilized my neck and placed me on a stretcher. As they carried me toward the ambulance, my mother hurried down the path, suddenly wearing the expression of a concerned parent.
“Marcus,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “You must have leaned against that old railing.”
I stared at her.
She wasn’t asking what happened.
She was telling me what I was supposed to say.
Detective Grant walked beside the stretcher.
“Marcus, can you hear me?”
I blinked once.
“Did you fall?”
My eyes moved toward Tyler.
He stood at the top of the path, staring down at me.
“No,” I whispered.
My mother immediately stepped closer.
“He’s confused.”
Grant raised one hand, stopping her.
“What happened, Marcus?”
I gathered what little strength I had left.
“Tyler pushed me.”
The words seemed to silence the entire estate.
Tyler shook his head.
“He’s lying. He’s angry because Grandma’s death has made him unstable.”
Grant looked toward the damaged railing again.
Then he reached into his coat and removed a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a silver cuff link.
Tyler instinctively touched his empty sleeve.
The detective noticed.
“So this isn’t yours?” Grant asked.
Tyler said nothing.
My mother stepped between them.
“You cannot accuse my son based on a piece of jewelry.”
“I haven’t accused anyone,” Grant replied. “Not yet.”
The ambulance doors opened.
As the paramedics lifted me inside, Grant leaned closer.
“Your grandmother called me six days before she died,” he said quietly.
I stared at him.
“She believed someone in this family was going to hurt you.”
The doors closed before I could ask why.
As the ambulance pulled away, I saw Grant turn back toward the mansion.
Tyler was still standing beside the railing.
My mother was beside him, whispering urgently.
May you like
And for the first time in my life, neither of them looked powerful.
They looked afraid.
