Chapter 6 - The Blue-and-Red Storm
The red and blue strobes painted the entryway walls in jagged, pulsing stripes of light as three state troopers in tactical carriers strode up the gravel path. Leading them was Captain Mark Vance—my old squad commander from Lincoln, his silver hair cropped close, his jaw set in granite.
Dennis stumbled backward from the kitchen into the hallway, his face draining of all color as he saw the state insignia on the troopers' jackets. “Tori, wait—we can talk about this. We can settle this without the state police getting involved. Think about the town, think about my practice, think about our social standing—!”
“You didn't think about Meadow when you threw her down the stairs, Dennis,” I said, stepping aside to let the troopers push past me into the house.
“Dennis Hawthorne and Serena Lane?” Captain Vance asked, his voice sharp and authoritative, cutting through Dennis’s stuttering panic.
“That’s them,” I answered quietly.
Two troopers moved instantly, flanking Dennis and pinning his arms behind his back with practiced, mechanical efficiency. The sharp click of steel handcuffs echoed loudly in the confined hallway.
“What is the meaning of this? You can't do this!” Dennis shrieked, struggling against the grip of the troopers as his expensive suit jacket bunched up around his shoulders. “I’m a pillar of this community! I demand to speak to Sheriff Miller—!”
“Sheriff Miller has been temporarily relieved of jurisdiction under an emergency state protective order,” Captain Vance replied coldly, pulling a warrant document from his breast pocket and holding it up. “Dennis Hawthorne, you are being detained on suspicion of felony child abuse, domestic assault, and tampering with evidence. Serena Lane, step away from the counter and keep your hands where we can see them.”
Serena let out a high-pitched, hysterical sob, her back pressed hard against the pantry door as a female trooper moved in to secure her wrists. “Tori! Please! Tell them it was a misunderstanding! We were just... we were just stressed!”
I watched them both with a cold, detached emptiness. The anger that had fueled my drive home had transformed into something harder—a protective armor that nothing they said could penetrate.
May you like
“Take them out through the back,” I instructed Captain Vance, keeping my eyes fixed on Dennis’s sweat-beaded forehead. “And make sure the crime scene techs sweep the second-floor landing thoroughly. That’s where he broke my daughter's shoulder.”
---
