Chapter 4 - The Detective
The piercing sound of multiple police sirens completely shattered the tense silence of the underground garage.
Adrian stopped dead in his tracks, his sinister smile instantly vanishing as the flashing blue and red lights painted the concrete walls.
He looked at me with pure, murderous hatred, realizing he had finally been caught in the act.
He quickly dropped the heavy steel tire iron onto the ground, turned around, and sprinted away into the dark maintenance corridor.
A massive wave of profound relief washed over me, and I slumped back into the driver's seat.
"We are safe, Lucy," I breathed heavily, watching three uniformed police officers rush down the concrete ramp with their weapons drawn.
The officers quickly secured the perimeter, yelling for anyone in the garage to put their hands in the air.
A tall, broad-shouldered detective wearing a beige trench coat walked slowly down the ramp behind them.
He approached my car, flashing a golden badge that read Detective Miller, Special Victims Unit.
"Are you the woman who called 911," Detective Miller asked, his voice calm and deeply reassuring.
I nodded frantically, rolling down my window to speak to the authority figure we so desperately needed.
"My neighbor's husband is trying to kill her, he broke into my apartment and chased us down here," I explained rapidly.
Detective Miller looked at Lucy, who was sobbing uncontrollably in the passenger seat with her baby.
"It is okay, ma'am, you are completely safe now," Miller said, offering a warm, professional smile.
"I need you to step out of the vehicle so we can get you to a safe house and take your official statement."
Lucy unbuckled her seatbelt, tears of joy streaming down her bruised face as she prepared to step out into the officers' protection.
But something about the detective's demeanor felt completely wrong to me.
He had not asked for Adrian's description, nor had he dispatched his officers to search the maintenance corridor.
I glanced down at the detective's left hand, which was resting casually on the edge of my car window.
He was wearing a highly unique, custom-made silver ring shaped like a snarling wolf.
My blood instantly turned to ice.
I had seen that exact same ring in a photograph Lucy had shown me three weeks ago.
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It was a matching fraternity ring that Adrian wore, identical to the one worn by his older brother.
"Lock your door, Lucy," I screamed, violently shifting the car into reverse.
