Chapter 5 – THE GHOST IN THE ROOM
Julian stood up slowly.
He took the drawing from my hand. He looked at the red crayon marks, and then he looked at the woman he had almost married.
“You were there,” Julian whispered, the realization draining the color from his face. “You followed her.”
Celeste panicked. She lunged toward the dining room doors, shoving past the stunned police officers.
“Stop her!” Victor shouted.
Julian’s security team didn’t need to be told twice. Two large men in black suits grabbed Celeste’s arms, holding her firmly in place.
“Let me go!” she screamed, thrashing wildly. Her perfectly styled hair fell into her face, her elegant facade completely shattered. “Julian, they’re lying! They’re conspiring against me!”
“You threatened my son,” Julian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, absolute calm. “You watched my wife die, and then you moved into my house and threatened my son.”
The police officers finally realized they were standing in the middle of a homicide investigation. One of them pulled out his radio, calling for backup and detectives.
Victor stepped closer to Julian.
“She didn’t just watch her die, Julian,” Victor said bitterly. “Rachel survived the initial crash. The car was teetering on the edge. Celeste got out of her own car, walked over to Rachel’s window, and took the locket. Then she pushed the door.”
Julian closed his eyes. A single tear escaped, sliding down his cheek.
I wrapped my arms around Theo, pressing his face into my shoulder so he wouldn’t have to see his father break.
“Dr. Morris,” Julian suddenly called out, his eyes snapping open.
Across the room, the grief counselor flinched.
“Yes, Mr. Mercer?” Dr. Morris asked, her voice shaking.
“You knew,” Julian said. It wasn’t a question.
Dr. Morris swallowed hard, looking down at the carpet.
“Julian, please—”
“You told me Theo was making up stories,” Julian shouted, his voice finally breaking. “You told me his fear of Celeste was a psychological projection of his grief! You prescribed him sedatives!”
Dr. Morris backed away. “Celeste… she promised to fund my new clinic. She said Theo was just confused. I didn’t know about the bridge. I swear to God, Julian, I didn’t know she killed her.”
“You sold my son’s mind for a clinic,” Julian said in disgust.
He looked at his security guard. “Lock her in the study until the detectives get here. She doesn’t leave.”
“Wait!” Celeste shrieked, struggling against the guards. “Julian, if you turn me in, my father will destroy you! You know he will. He owns half the board!”
“Let him try,” Julian said.
Just then, the heavy double doors of the dining room were pushed open again.
A tall, imposing man in a cashmere overcoat stepped into the room.
It was Arthur Wynn. Celeste’s father.
And he wasn’t alone. He had four heavily armed private security contractors with him.
“Nobody is arresting my daughter tonight,” Arthur said, his voice echoing with absolute authority.
He looked at the two NYPD officers.
“In fact, officers,” Arthur said smoothly, pulling a crisp, white envelope from his coat. “You are here to arrest Julian Mercer. For the murder of his wife.”
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