Chapter 12 - Interrogation Room Tensions
In the subterranean federal holding facility, Eleanor and Daniel sat at opposite ends of a cold, stainless steel interrogation table.
The silence between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, broken only by the hum of the fluorescent overhead lights.
“You couldn't even manage a simple domestic cover-up without tripping over your own feet, Daniel,” Eleanor sneered coldly.
“Me? This was your psychotic obsession from day one, Mother! You pushed us into this nightmare!” Daniel snapped back furiously.
Agent Miller walked into the room, tossing a thick stack of financial transfer printouts onto the center of the table.
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“You can bicker all you want, but your offshore accounts in the Caymans have just been frozen by federal order,” Miller stated calmly.
“And your mother has already offered to trade your full confession for a twenty-year sentence reduction, Daniel.”
