Chapter 17 - The Frame Job
I made it back to the grand foyer just as Evelyn was bidding farewell to the last of her disgraced guests. I caught Garrett’s eye and gave him a subtle nod, confirming I had secured the evidence. We just needed to hand the photos over to the federal prosecutors in the morning.
But Evelyn, realizing her social power was rapidly fading, decided to execute her most desperate and dangerous move yet.
Later that evening, as Garrett and I were in the private study, the piercing sound of shattering glass echoed from the East Wing, followed immediately by a blood-curdling scream.
Garrett and I sprinted down the hallway, bursting into Evelyn’s suite. Florence was kneeling on the floor next to Evelyn, who was convulsing violently, white foam bubbling at the corners of her mouth. A shattered teacup lay on the Persian rug nearby.
Florence pointed a trembling, accusatory finger directly at my chest, screaming hysterically that I had poisoned the matriarch.
Within ten minutes, the estate was swarming with paramedics and local police. Evelyn was rushed to the hospital in critical condition. Two gruff detectives pulled me into the living room, reading me my rights and treating me like a murderer. Florence had given them a tearful, Oscar-worthy statement, claiming she saw me sneak into the kitchen and tamper with Evelyn's evening tea.
The detectives produced a small, empty vial found in the kitchen trash can—the exact same vial I used for Garrett’s medical supplies. It was a flawless frame job.
They moved to place me in handcuffs, but Garrett stepped directly between me and the detectives. His voice was dangerously calm, carrying the absolute authority of a man who owned half the city. He told the officers that if they laid a single finger on me, he would have their badges by midnight.
Garrett demanded that his head of security, Marcus, bring the kitchen surveillance footage to the living room immediately. Florence scoffed confidently, claiming she knew the kitchen cameras had been malfunctioning all week.
Marcus entered the room with a heavy laptop and a grim smile. He informed the detectives that while the main kitchen cameras were indeed down, Garrett had ordered the installation of a hidden, micro-lens camera inside the smoke detector above the stove three days ago—the exact same trick Gertrude had used on us months earlier.
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Marcus hit play. The high-definition footage clearly showed Florence entering the empty kitchen, pulling a small vial from her own pocket, and pouring a few drops of a heavy toxin into Evelyn’s teacup. She then wiped the vial and tossed it into my medical waste bin.
Florence’s face turned the color of ash. She lunged for the laptop, but the detectives grabbed her, slamming her against the wall and slapping the cold steel cuffs onto her wrists.
