Chapter 3 - The Interrogation
The private security holding room beneath James’s tactical office in downtown city center was cold, sterile, and lit by a single overhead fluorescent bulb.
Lauren sat in a heavy steel chair in the center of the room, her wrists secured with plastic zip-ties behind her back. Her mascara was smeared down her cheeks, her expensive silk blouse rumpled, her face pale with total, unadulterated terror.
Dominic, James’s chief of security, stood in the shadow near the reinforced door, his arms crossed over his massive chest.
The heavy door unlocked with a loud, electric click. James stepped into the room. He had changed out of his Christmas sweater into a charcoal-grey tactical uniform, looking every inch the military commander who answered to no one.
I stood behind the two-way glass window in the adjacent observation room, holding a sleeping Emma close to my chest, my heart beating frantically as I watched the scene unfold.
“You can’t keep me here!” Lauren screamed, her voice shrill and hysterical as James sat down in the wooden chair directly across from her. “This is kidnapping! I’ll call the police! I’ll tell everyone what a psycho you are!”
James casually pulled a thick leather-bound folder from under his arm and placed it on the metal table between them.
“You won't be calling anyone, Lauren,” James said smoothly. “Because if the police come into this room, they won't be arresting me. They will be executing a federal warrant for your arrest under the Logan Act and treasonous conspiracy.”
Lauren’s breath caught in her throat. She tried to maintain her defiant sneer, but her eyes flicked nervously toward the folder. “You’re bluffing.”
James opened the folder. “Four days ago, a bank account in your name registered in the Cayman Islands received a wire transfer of fifty thousand dollars. The originator was a shell corporation registered to Vance Logistics.”
Lauren went completely rigid.
“You met a representative of Richard Vance at a hotel bar in Midtown six days ago,” James continued, his voice cold, methodical, and devastatingly precise. “You provided them with my travel itinerary, Maya’s phone number, and the location of your parents’ home for tonight’s dinner.”
“They... they told me they were private investigators!” Lauren sobbed, her composure entirely shattering into pathetic panic. “They said you were cheating on Maya! They said they just wanted to catch you in a lie!”
“Don't lie to me!” James slammed his palm down onto the steel table with a noise like a gunshot.
Lauren shrieked, flinching back into her chair, curling her legs up as far as the ties would allow.
“They paid your gambling debts, Lauren!” James snarled, leaning across the table until his face was inches from hers. “You sold out your sister’s infant child to a foreign arms trafficker because you couldn't stop buying designer bags and playing high-stakes poker in Queens!”
“I didn't know they were going to threaten the baby!” Lauren wept hysterically, tears streaming down her nose. “I swear! I just wanted the money! I hate how Maya got everything—the perfect husband, the perfect house, the perfect baby—while I was drowning in debt! I just wanted her to suffer a little bit!”
In the observation room behind the glass, tears burned my eyes. My own sister. My own blood. She hadn't just slapped my baby out of cruel frustration; she had orchestrated a terrifying nightmare out of pure, unadulterated envy.
James stood up slowly, looking down at Lauren with profound disgust.
“You are a pathetic creature,” James said softly. “You hit my child tonight to test if you could push us around. You wanted to see if I was as soft as your father.”
He turned to Dominic. “Call the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Tell Special Agent Vance’s task force that we have his primary local informant in custody.”
“No! James, please!” Lauren screamed, thrashing against the chair as Dominic stepped forward with a pair of heavy handcuffs. “Don't give me to the feds! They’ll put me in prison! Mom and Dad will never forgive you!”
James stopped at the doorway. He looked back over his shoulder, his eyes cold as ice.
“Your parents don't have a say in this anymore, Lauren,” James said flatly. “And as far as my family is concerned... you died tonight.”
May you like
He walked out of the room, shutting the steel door behind him, drowning out her frantic, hysterical screams.
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