Chapter 6 - The Forged Signature
I stared at my son in absolute horror as the tactical officers grabbed my arms.
I screamed that he was insane and that I had done absolutely nothing wrong.
Austin confidently showed a piece of paper to the lead local officer.
It was an international arrest warrant bearing my name and photograph.
Austin loudly explained that the police had found a bottle of the rare toxin hidden inside my bedroom closet.
Chloe had obviously planted the evidence while they were ransacking the house.
They had framed me perfectly to ensure I would take the fall for their horrific crime.
Arthur stepped forward and demanded that the officers release me immediately.
He pulled out his phone to call his massive team of corporate lawyers.
One of the officers slapped the phone out of Arthur's hand and shoved him against the brick wall.
They handcuffed me tightly and shoved me into the back of the dark SUV.
Austin sat in the front passenger seat and looked at me through the rearview mirror.
He told me I should have just signed the house over and stayed quietly in my place.
He said Chloe had already drained the five million dollars and transferred it to a non-extradition country.
I realized then that my son was not just a manipulated victim of his greedy wife.
He was a fully willing participant in his own father's brutal murder.
I sat in the dark vehicle holding back my tears of rage.
I could feel the thick stack of medical reports pressing against my ribs inside my concealed jacket pocket.
They had not searched me thoroughly before throwing me in the car.
I knew I had exactly one chance to turn the tables before they locked me in a foreign jail cell.
The SUV arrived at the main police precinct in San Juan.
They dragged me into a bright interrogation room and chained my wrists to the metal table.
Austin walked in with a smug local detective who seemed eager to close the case.
The detective placed a written confession on the table and handed me a pen.
He promised that if I signed it, they would recommend a comfortable facility for my prison sentence.
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I looked at the pen, then looked directly into my son's cold eyes.
I told the detective I would only sign the paper if he searched my jacket pocket first.
