Chapter 2 - Red and Blue LightsThe red and blue strobes of six police cruisers bounced off the white pillars of Oakridge Manor, turning the peaceful suburban estate into a surreal, flashing crime scene.
Within fifteen minutes of Mark’s call, three squad cars, an ambulance, and a detective’s unmarked sedan had torn up the long brick driveway. The quiet neighborhood, usually accustomed to nothing louder than lawnmowers and late-afternoon cocktail music, was alive with the crackle of police radios and the urgent crunch of boots on gravel.
Inside the foyer, two uniformed officers held Victoria by her arms near the grand archway.
Her royal blue silk top was wrinkled, her perfect bun had fallen into loose, messy strands, and heavy steel handcuffs pulled her wrists tightly behind her back. The ice-cold composure she had maintained for six months had completely collapsed into hysterical pleading.
"You don't understand!" Victoria sobbed to the lead officer, her eyes wide and bloodshot. "It was an argument! A domestic misunderstanding! My husband is exaggerating because he's overly sensitive about his daughter! I didn't push her!"
Detective Frank Miller, a gray-haired veteran with sharp, exhausted eyes, stood near the sofa with a notepad. He ignored Victoria's screaming entirely, his focus fixed on Mark, who sat beside Lily on the velvet cushion, wrapped in a blanket provided by the paramedics.
A paramedic finished examining Lily’s arms and collarbone, shining a small penlight into her eyes. "No broken bones, no signs of concussion," the paramedic reported quietly to Mark. "She’s going to have severe bruising on her hip where she hit your chest, Mr. Mercer, but physically, you saved her life. Your knees and back are going to be agonizing tomorrow, though."
"I don't care about my back," Mark said raspy, his hand resting securely on Lily’s shoulder. "Is she okay to stay home?"
"Physically, yes. Emotionally... she needs rest and quiet."
Detective Miller stepped closer, clicking his pen. "Mr. Mercer, I need to confirm your statement once more before we transport Mrs. Mercer to the precinct. You explicitly saw her place two hands on your daughter and apply force?"
"I saw her grab Lily's shoulders and shove her over the iron rail," Mark said, his voice flat, hard, and devoid of any remaining warmth for the woman in cuffs. "I ran from my office door, slid on the marble, and caught Lily before she hit the floor."
"And you have security cameras inside the residence?" Miller asked.
"In the foyer, the main hallway, and the upper gallery," Mark answered. "The cloud feed records twenty-four hours a day. My attorney is already downloading the raw footage for your team."
At the mention of security cameras, Victoria’s hysteria cut off instantly. She froze, her eyes snapping toward the small, dark lens hidden inside the molding above the chandelier. She had forgotten about the cameras. In her blind, jealous rage, she had completely forgotten that every second of her assault had been captured in high-definition video.
Detective Miller turned toward the two officers holding Victoria. "Take her in. Book her for attempted first-degree murder, felony child abuse, and aggravated assault."
"Mark! Please!" Victoria shrieked as the officers began pulling her toward the front entrance. "Don't do this to me! You can't let them take me to jail! I'm your wife!"
Mark didn't look at her. He leaned down, pulling the blanket higher over Lily’s shoulders, completely turning his back on Victoria’s desperate screams until the heavy front doors slammed shut, cutting off her voice forever.
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Detective Miller sighed, putting his notepad into his trench coat pocket. "She's going to spend the night in a cell at the precinct, Mr. Mercer. A magistrate will review the bail conditions tomorrow morning at nine. With the video evidence you described, I’ll be requesting no bail, but her family has money. They’ll bring heavy lawyers."
"Let them," Mark said, his dark eyes meeting the detective's. "I have heavy lawyers, too."
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