Chapter 2 - The Police Arrival
I stared at the bleeding man on my floor, unable to comprehend the sheer magnitude of his words.
My beautiful grandchildren were supposedly in the hands of violent criminals because of my daughter's reckless mistakes.
Wade pulled his cell phone from his pocket and thrust it frantically toward my face.
He showed me a blurry photograph of Caroline sitting in a dark room with her hands tied to a wooden chair.
My heart shattered into a million pieces, and every maternal instinct screamed at me to save her.
I walked toward my home office, fully prepared to wire every single penny of my retirement to bring them home.
Suddenly, the deafening wail of police sirens pierced the quiet morning air of my suburban street.
Red and blue lights flashed aggressively through the broken glass of my front door.
A neighbor had heard the glass shattering and immediately called 911 to report a home invasion.
The moment Wade heard the sirens, his entire demeanor completely shifted.
The desperate, crying father vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, calculating lawyer.
Two armed police officers burst through the front door with their weapons drawn and aimed directly at Wade.
Wade raised his hands calmly and smiled at the officers as if this was all a simple misunderstanding.
He smoothly explained that he was just checking on his elderly mother-in-law who suffered from severe dementia.
He claimed I had locked him out in a state of confusion and that he broke the glass to ensure I was safe.
The younger officer lowered his weapon and looked at my medical eye patch with deep, misguided sympathy.
I shouted that he was lying, that he had stolen nineteen thousand dollars and that my grandchildren were kidnapped.
Wade gave the police a sad, condescending look and tapped his temple to imply I was completely insane.
The officers gently asked me to sit down, clearly believing the well-dressed attorney over the panicked elderly woman.
I realized I was completely trapped by his brilliant manipulation, so I immediately called my lawyer, Otis Beaman.
Otis arrived thirty minutes later, holding a briefcase and wearing a look of absolute fury.
He pulled a massive stack of legal documents from his bag and slammed them onto my kitchen counter.
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Otis looked at the police officers and revealed that Wade didn't just steal the nineteen thousand dollars.
He had secretly taken out a two-million-dollar life insurance policy on me, and his frantic break-in was actually a staged murder attempt.
