Chapter 15
The DA filed at 8:05 a.m. on Friday.
I was at Mara's kitchen table when Heller called. "Attempted murder in the first degree, financial motive enhancement. Judge signed the warrant. They're serving at his apartment now, not the house. You don't need to be there."
"I want to be at the station for my statement," I said.
"Park will meet you at nine."
Mara drove me. The streets were damp from morning fog. At the station, Ellis Tran was already in the interview room, his charter jacket folded over a chair. He stood when I came in.
"Ms. Hart," he said. He was younger than I remembered from the photo, early thirties, hands rough. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Thank you for telling what you heard," I said.
He nodded. "I heard him say, 'I'm sorry, Amelia,' before you went out. I didn't see a push, but I saw the door open and you falling back. I saw the canopy after. I told them I changed course over water for cash. That was his instruction. I shouldn't have."
Park took us in separately. When it was my turn, he read my earlier statement back verbatim and asked me to confirm each line. I confirmed the fall, the dialogue, the harness I'd bought two weeks prior at Harbor Outfitters after I found the share amendment draft in our safe and after Richard increased his life insurance inquiry without an exam.
"Why the harness?" Park asked.
"Because I thought if he did anything on the water, no one would find me," I said. "I wanted to live. I wanted the baby to live."
He wrote that down. "And the shares?"
"They were mine before marriage, held in trust. The draft would vest them to him if I died. The recorder in my coat pocket caught him saying what would happen to them."
Park closed his notebook. "The form he left yesterday matches the draft. Forensic accounting confirmed the vest date was Monday 8/18. That's motive and premeditation evidence."
At 9:42, Marris knocked. "Warrant served. He's in custody. No incident."
I felt my shoulders drop. I hadn't realized how high they'd been.
We walked to the courthouse for the first appearance at eleven. The courtroom was the same as before, but now Richard stood at the defense table in handcuffs, Keller beside him. He didn't look at me. Judge Nolan read the charges, set bail at $2 million cash, no release to the residence, no contact with witnesses including Ellis and me, surrender passport.
Keller asked for reduced bail. Nolan denied it. "Given flight risk over water, financial resources, and alleged tampering yesterday, the court finds detention appropriate."
Outside, the harbor wind was up. Reporters were kept behind the low wall. Heller walked me past them without stopping.
At two, we went to the bank with the injunction. The manager printed the hold confirmation: all Holdings shares frozen under my name, transfer blocked, voting rights retained. He slid it across the desk.
I folded it and put it in my bag. My bag was Mara's tote, not the gift bag. The gift bag was in evidence.
That evening, I went back to Bay Street with Marris for the final walkthrough. The house was quiet. His key was on the entry console where Marris had left it after photographing. I picked it up and dropped it in an envelope for the deputy.
In the bedroom, my closet was half empty where he'd taken his things. My side was still there — the cream shirt, the dark skirt, both cleaned and bagged at the hospital and returned by the victim advocate. The tan trench coat hung with a tag that said evidence return — not to be worn. I left it hanging.
I stood at the window that faced the water. I could see the line where ocean met sky, the same blue as under the canopy. The baby kicked, hard this time.
Mara texted: Soup on when you're home.
I locked the house and handed the envelope to Marris. We drove back not fast, windows down, air smelling like salt and cut grass. At the apartment, the deputy parked and stayed until I was inside.
May you like
Later, Heller called to confirm the dates: criminal trial in ninety days, share hearing to quiet title the week after, protective order extended through both. "You keep everything," she said. "He keeps his defense."
I sat at Mara's table, the injunction and the bank confirmation side by side, my hands resting where the baby moved. For the first time since the helicopter, I didn't listen for footsteps. I listened for the small, steady sounds in the room — the refrigerator, the clock, my own breathing — and they were enough.
