Chapter 8 - The Net Tightens
Detective Vance leaned in over the glowing screen of Ethan’s phone.
The video footage was crystal clear.
The audio captured the faint sound of laughter from the guests out on the patio, followed by the heavy creak of footsteps. Then came the confrontation.
*“Put it down,”* my recorded voice echoed clearly from the tiny speaker.
*“Your sister needs help.”*
*“She needs consequences.”*
The camera caught the entire struggle in high-definition clarity. It showed Kelsey clutching the velvet box with wild, thieving eyes. It showed me grabbing it back, backing into the kitchen, holding my swollen stomach in protective instinct.
And then came the horrifying, damning climax.
The camera showed Vivian stepping up to the stove. It captured the cold, psychopathic calculation in her eyes. It showed her gripping the handle of the pot with two hands, looking directly at my pregnant belly, and violently thrusting the boiling liquid across the counter straight at me.
The footage recorded my ear-splitting scream, the sickening splash, the sound of my amniotic sac rupturing, and Kelsey diving onto the floor like a vulture to pry the jewelry from my burning fingers while Vivian watched without blinking.
*“Look what you made me do,”* Vivian’s recorded voice purred with chilling cruelty.
Detective Vance’s jaw clenched so tight the muscle twitched visibly beneath his stubble. He slowly pulled his eyes away from the screen, his face completely pale.
"Jesus Christ," the detective breathed, his professional detachment shattering for a second. "That’s not an accident. That’s premeditated, depraved indifference to human life. That’s attempted murder."
"Can you arrest them now?" Ethan demanded, his voice shaking with restrained fury. "Can you put those monsters behind bars?!"
"Not just arrest," Detective Vance said, pulling out his radio and speaking with icy authority. "This is Unit Twelve to Dispatch. Elevate the warrants on Vivian Vaughn and Kelsey Vaughn. Charges are upgraded to Attempted First-Degree Murder, Aggravated Assault with a Deadly Weapon, Child Endangerment resulting in Great Bodily Harm, Burglary, and Grand Larceny. Revoke any standard bail parameters. Flag their passports immediately."
"Thank you," I wept, closing my eyes as relief washed over me.
"Rest, Mrs. Vance," the detective said softly, tipping his head respectfully. "We have units converging on their residences now."
Meanwhile, three miles away in an abandoned industrial park near the Cooper River, Kelsey’s car was idling in the shadow of a rusted warehouse.
"Where is he?!" Kelsey screamed, pounding her steering wheel, sweat ruining her mascara. "He said he’d be here!"
"Shut up and let me think!" Vivian shouted back, checking the rearview mirror nervously. "We need cash. We need to get to the private airstrip in Walterboro. Your uncle has a Cessna—"
A black Escalade with tinted windows silently pulled up behind their Mercedes, blocking them into the narrow alley.
Two men stepped out. The man in front was tall, dressed in an immaculate Italian wool coat, with a tattoo of a coiled viper creeping up his throat.
It was Marcus.
Kelsey’s breath hitched in her throat. "Oh God. Oh God, Mom, it's him."
Marcus walked slowly to the driver’s side window, tapping the glass with a heavy platinum signet ring.
Kelsey rolled the window down two inches, trembling like a leaf. "M-Marcus... I have the money, I swear! It’s just... there was a delay at the jeweler—"
Marcus leaned down, his dark eyes dead and emotionless.
"I don't care about your delays, Kelsey," Marcus said softly. "The news is currently broadcasting your names across every channel in South Carolina. The police are looking for you for boiling your pregnant sister alive. Do you think I'm stupid enough to let you drag my business into an attempted murder manhunt?"
"Marcus, please!" Kelsey sobbed.
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"Give me the keys to the car," Marcus said calmly. "And give me every cent of jewelry on your bodies right now. Or the police will find your bodies floating in the river before midnight."
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