Chapter 3 - The Morning AfterThe next morning, the storm had cleared, leaving behind a crisp, deceptive autumn sunlight.
Down in the massive granite kitchen, Margaret Mitchell sat sipping her Earl Grey tea, looking every bit the pristine matriarch of Ohio society. Richard sat opposite her, reading the Columbus Dispatch with an expression of icy calm, as if he hadn't spent the previous midnight panicking over his drugged daughter.
Ashley stumbled into the kitchen wearing oversized sunglasses, clutching her head with a groan.
"Dad... my head feels like it's split in half," Ashley whimpered, collapsing into a chair. "What was in that juice last night?"
Richard’s newspaper rattled slightly. He didn't look up. "You drank too much tequila, Ashley. You hallucinated."
"No, I didn't!" Ashley argued, rubbing her temples. "I came upstairs, drank a glass of juice in Emily’s room, and passed out instantly. Someone spiked it."
Margaret shot a cold, judgmental glare across the island toward me. Emily was standing quietly by the coffee maker.
"Don't blame your irresponsible drinking habits on Emily, Ashley," Margaret scolded sharply. "Emily, stop standing around and make your sister-in-law some black coffee. You're part of this family now; act like it."
Before I could answer, the heavy front doorbell rang.
Three sharp, authoritative knocks echoed through the foyer.
Richard frowned, standing up and smoothing his cardigan. "Who on earth could that be at eight in the morning?"
He walked to the front door and pulled it open.
Standing on the porch were two uniformed Columbus police officers, flanked by a tall, striking woman in a sharp navy blue pantsuit holding a federal badge.
"Richard Mitchell?" the federal agent asked smoothly. "I'm Special Agent Sarah Vance with the Department of Justice Financial Crimes Division. You're being served with an emergency search and seizure warrant regarding the embezzlement of four point two million dollars from the Mitchell Youth Foundation."
Richard’s face drained of every drop of color, his knees buckling slightly against the doorframe.
"There... there's been some mistake," Richard stammered, looking back at Margaret in sheer horror.
May you like
I walked out of the kitchen holding my phone, stepping past the frozen family members and looking straight into the eyes of the lead investigator.
"Agent Vance," I said clearly, my voice ringing through the sunlit foyer. "I believe I have the evidence you're looking for—including attempted drugging, domestic coercion, and digital backups of the foundation's offshore accounts."
Related Stories
