Chapter 5 - The Surveillance Trap
I kept my hands folded neatly on top of the steel table, my posture straight, my expression entirely serene.
"I received a text message at approximately midnight," I answered clearly, looking straight into Miller’s tired, suspicious eyes. "It stated that he was flying to Cabo with Elena and that I shouldn't look for him. I viewed it as a formal declaration of marital abandonment."
"And your reaction?" Miller asked, raising an eyebrow. "Most wives don't just roll over and go to sleep when their husband runs off with their best friend."
"I am not 'most wives,' Detective," I replied smoothly. "Julian and I have lived separate emotional lives for over a year. His infidelity was an open secret. The only thing his text message did was save me the legal fees of filing for divorce on grounds of desertion."
Miller pulled a printed transcript of our text exchange from the manila folder and slid it across the table. "Convenient. But let's look at the timeline. According to your home security logs, at 12:14 AM—fourteen minutes after you received that text—you engaged the Global Override on your estate security system. You locked him out."
"Yes. Because he was texting me threats, demanding entry, and pounding on my front door like a lunatic," I countered without missing a beat. "I didn't want a drunken, belligerent cheater breaking into my home in the middle of the night. I secured my property. That is not a crime."
"It's not a crime to lock your doors," Miller agreed softly, tapping a finger against the table. "However, it is interesting that at 1:45 AM, a witness living near the Route 9 railway bridge reported seeing a silver luxury sedan speeding down the access road without its headlights on, followed moments later by the sound of screeching tires and a heavy metal impact."
I held his gaze, refusing to blink. "I was in my bed asleep from 1:00 AM until 5:30 AM. My house is equipped with internal motion sensors, smart thermostats, and hallway cameras. You can pull the digital telemetry logs right now. They will show zero movement inside my home during those hours."
Miller narrowed his eyes. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the metal table. "We already pulled your logs, Mrs. Vance. And you know what else we found? Your master bedroom smart-lock was accessed from the inside at 1:52 AM. Someone opened your balcony door, stepped out onto the roof, and came back in four minutes later."
A cold spike of adrenaline hit my chest, though I forced my expression to remain an unreadable mask. My balcony door? I hadn't stepped outside last night. I had slept soundly through the entire night.
Or... had I?
Before I could process the implication, the heavy metal door of the interview room banged open.
Detective Aris rushed inside, his face pale, holding a glowing tablet in his hand. He didn't even look at me; he went straight to Miller, leaning down and whispering frantically into his ear.
Miller’s eyes widened. He looked up from Aris, stared directly at me, and slowly pushed his chair back from the table.
"What is it, Detective?" I asked, my voice suddenly sounding very thin in the small room.
Miller stood up, smoothing down his coat. "That was the hospital, Mrs. Vance. Elena Rossi just regained consciousness."
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. "And? What did she say?"
Miller looked down at me with a chilling, triumphant expression. "She said she wasn't driving the car. She said Julian pulled her out of the passenger seat on the side of the road, beat her senseless, and threw her into the ditch. She said someone else was waiting in the darkness—someone wearing black gloves and a ski mask—who helped Julian push his own luxury vehicle off the edge of the ravine with him inside it."
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I stared at Miller in absolute, suffocating shock.
"And according to Elena," Miller finished quietly, his voice dropping like a lead weight, "the person wearing those black gloves... was wearing your exact perfume."
