Chapter 8
The story broke on the local evening news the following night,
shaking the quiet community of Cedar Rapids to its core.
Headlines splashed across television screens,
reading: Suburban Family Horrors: Mother and Brother Charged with Poisoning Teenager for Insurance Payout.
In the local county detention facility,
Diane Vance sat in a small,
windowless interrogation room,
her expensive clothes crumpled,
her hair messy and unwashed.
Across the metal table sat Detective Miller and District Attorney Sarah Jenkins,
a stern woman with cold blue eyes and a thick briefcase full of evidence.
"We have the toxicology report,
Diane,"
Attorney Jenkins stated,
opening a thick folder and sliding photos across the table.
The photos showed the glass vial found in Ray's room,
the insurance documents,
and the blood analysis from Mercy Hospital.
"The thallium levels in Emma's body were four times the lethal limit,"
Jenkins explained flatly.
"If she hadn't reached the hospital when she did,"
she added,
"she would have suffered total organ failure within forty-eight hours."
Mom wrung her hands together,
her voice trembling as she attempted to play the victim once again.
"I didn't know it was poison!"
Mom cried,
wiping fake tears from her dry cheeks.
"Ray told me it was a natural herb supplement!"
she lied,
her voice rising in pitch.
"He said it would help her lose weight and feel energized!"
"Save it for the jury,
Mrs. Vance,"
Detective Miller interrupted,
leaning forward across the table.
"We seized your cell phone under a federal search warrant,"
Miller revealed,
pulling a printed transcript from his pocket.
"Three weeks ago,"
Miller read,
"you sent a text message to Ray Higgins that reads:"
"'Is it taking this long on purpose? She's still attending her classes. We need the payout before the bank forecloses on the house next month.'"
Mom’s mouth snapped shut instantly,
her eyes widening in horror as her own words hung in the sterile air of the room.
"That text message,"
Attorney Jenkins chimed in,
"establishes full premeditation,
conspiracy to commit murder,
and financial motive."
"We are filing charges of attempted first-degree murder,"
Jenkins announced coldly,
"along with child endangerment,
insurance fraud,
and conspiracy."
"You are facing up to forty years in state prison without the possibility of parole,"
she added,
closing her briefcase with a loud,
decisive snap.
Mom began to weep uncontrollably,
slumping forward onto the cold metal table,
her dramatic performance finally crumbling under the weight of concrete evidence.
"What about my boys?"
she wailed,
her voice muffled against her sleeves.
"What about Caleb?"
she asked.
"Daniel has already filed for an emergency divorce,"
Detective Miller informed her without a shred of pity.
"He has also filed for full legal custody of Caleb,"
Miller added,
standing up from his chair.
"And as for Emma,"
Miller paused at the door,
May you like
looking back at the woman who had traded her daughter's life for cash,
"she never wants to see your face again."
