Chapter 7 - The Corrupt Cop
James collapsed onto the cold concrete floor, crying out in pain as blood soaked through his shirt.
I screamed his name through the plastic zip ties, thrashing violently against the metal chair.
Officer Boyd completely ignored James's agony and calmly walked over to where Vance was standing.
Vance lowered his weapon and nodded respectfully to the woman I thought was a hero.
The horrifying reality hit me like a freight train crashing through my chest.
Officer Boyd was not a real police officer; she was on Sarah's payroll from the very beginning.
She was the one who intercepted the 911 call at the restaurant and arrived first on the scene.
She was the one who magically found the fake life insurance policy in Linda's purse.
Everything was a meticulously choreographed stage play designed to destroy my family.
Boyd approached me and casually checked the tightness of the zip ties binding my wrists.
She told me that James had been getting dangerously close to exposing their entire operation.
Sarah needed a massive distraction, and framing his mother for attempted murder was the perfect smokescreen.
Boyd walked over to James, who was struggling to apply pressure to his bleeding shoulder.
She kicked him forcefully in the ribs, sending him sprawling backward onto the dusty floor.
She demanded to know where the backup copies of the corporate server files were hidden.
James spat blood onto the concrete and defiantly refused to speak a single word.
Boyd pulled a taser from her utility belt, letting the electric current crackle menacingly in the quiet warehouse.
She warned James that if he did not cooperate, she would test my heart's tolerance to high voltage.
She aimed the taser directly at my chest, her finger resting lightly on the heavy plastic trigger.
James panicked and screamed for her to stop, promising to tell her everything she wanted to know.
He confessed that the real master ledger was not on his laptop at all.
It was hidden inside a physical safety deposit box at a private bank in downtown Manhattan.
He recited a long string of numbers, claiming it was the access code for the vault.
Boyd smiled in grim satisfaction and relayed the code into a radio strapped to her shoulder.
She told Vance to tie James up next to me while they waited for confirmation from their bank team.
Vance roughly dragged my bleeding husband across the floor and bound him to the heavy steel beam behind my chair.
Boyd walked toward the exit, stating they would execute us both as soon as the files were secured.
The heavy metal doors slammed shut, plunging us into the dim glow of the emergency lights.
I sobbed quietly, apologizing to James for ever doubting his loyalty and love.
James leaned his head against mine, his breathing shallow and ragged from the pain.
He whispered very quietly in my ear, telling me not to cry for him just yet.
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He told me the code he gave Boyd was not for a bank vault.
It was the manual override code for the explosive charges buried directly beneath the warehouse floor.
