My mother-in-law dragged me across the patio and demanded my brother bring $30,000 cash to save me from jail—unaware of who was riding in his passenger seat.

Warren didn't listen.

Desperation makes cornered rats do stupid things. Warren suddenly darted to his right, shoving Mr. Sterling out of the way and sprinting down the terrace steps toward the back path that led into the wooded acreage behind the Vance estate.

"Warren, stop!" Grant yelled, starting after him.

"Let him go," Reid said, grabbing Grant’s arm. "Look down the drive."

Flashing blue and red lights were already illuminating the tops of the wrought-iron gateposts. The twin sirens of two county sheriff cruisers wailed in the distance, echoing off the surrounding hills as they accelerated up the long asphalt driveway.

Warren had made it barely fifty yards into the tree line before the sharp barking of a K-9 unit shattered his hopes. A third police vehicle, anticipating an escape attempt, had pulled around to the fire service road behind the estate.

Within two minutes, two deputies emerged from the brush, escorting a soaking wet, dirt-streaked Warren in steel handcuffs. He was sobbing loudly, his linen shirt torn at the collar, his head hung low in utter disgrace.

"Mom! Tell them!" Warren bawled as the deputies pushed him toward the backseat of the patrol cruiser. "Call Judge Harrison! Tell him it's a misunderstanding!"

The lead deputy, Sergeant Miller, walked up the terrace steps with a notepad in hand. "Mrs. Darlene Vance?"

Darlene pulled herself up from the ground, leaning heavily on the table. Her hair was a bird's nest, her mascara ran in black streaks down her wrinkled cheeks, and her hands were trembling violently. "Yes... Officer, please, my son..."

"Ma'am, we have a warrant for Warren Vance for felony grand theft, wire fraud, and identity theft," Sergeant Miller stated flatly. "And we also received an emergency assault complaint from a Mr. Reid Sloane regarding a physical battery on this property."

Sergeant Miller turned his attention to me, his eyes softening as he noted the visible cuts and bruises on my skin. "Are you Laurel Vance?"

"I am," I said softly.