Chapter 7 - The Interrogation Room
Christmas Day was spent at a secure precinct in downtown Chicago. Jillian and Leo were safe in a luxury hotel, surrounded by private security Jillian had hired.
Meanwhile, Mark and Vivian were sitting in separate, cinderblock interrogation rooms, turning on each other like starved animals.
A seasoned detective sat across from Mark, tossing a thick stack of bank statements onto the metal table.
“Your girlfriend is singing like a canary, Mark,” the detective lied smoothly. “She says the embezzlement was entirely your operation. She says you orchestrated the physical abuse of the boy to secure the real estate portfolio.”
“She’s a liar!” Mark slammed his cuffed hands on the table. “Vivian owed a million dollars to the Volkov syndicate! They were going to break her legs! I took the money to save her life! She told me how to manipulate the nanny-cam!”
In the room next door, Vivian was sobbing to a different detective.
“Mark forced me to play along! He told me if I didn't help him frame Jillian, he would frame me for the missing money! You have to protect me!”
By the end of the day, they had confessed to a dozen federal and state crimes just to spite each other. The District Attorney didn't even need to offer a plea deal. The evidence was overwhelming, and their mutual betrayals had sealed their fates.
Jillian received the phone call from Sarah Bennett that evening.
“No bail,” Sarah said cheerfully over the line. “They’re both spending Christmas in county lockup. And Jill? The DA is going for the maximum sentence.”
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Jillian looked over at the hotel bed. Leo was fast asleep, clutching the wooden train with the red ribbon.
“Good,” Jillian said.
