Chapter 8 - FLORIDA
Lacey ran.
One second she stood in the foyer.
The next she sprinted toward the kitchen.
Security moved.
Damon shouted, “Back door!”
Raina stayed frozen.
Orson caught her shoulders.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Raina.”
“No more sending me out of the room.”
Police entered through the front.
Elaine identified herself and began speaking to them.
A crash came from the kitchen.
Then yelling.
Thirty seconds later, two officers brought Lacey back in handcuffs.
Her baseball cap was gone.
Her hair fell across her face.
She looked at Damon.
“You did this.”
Damon stared back.
“I didn't call anyone.”
“You gave them my name.”
“They already had it.”
One detective entered behind the officers.
“Mr. Cole?”
Damon stiffened.
The detective looked at him.
“Don't go anywhere.”
Damon swallowed.
The detective turned to Lacey.
“Lacey Vaughn, you're being detained in connection with the death of Bryce Holland.”
Lacey laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because fear had nowhere else to go.
“I didn't kill him.”
“We'll discuss that downtown.”
“I wasn't even in Florida.”
The detective paused.
“We have hotel footage.”
Lacey stopped smiling.
Raina watched her.
Then she noticed something.
Damon looked more afraid than Lacey did.
The police took Lacey away.
The detective remained.
He walked toward Damon.
“You said she wasn't in Florida.”
Damon shook his head.
“I never said that.”
“You did in your interview this morning.”
Damon's face changed.
The detective continued.
“You told Officer Phelps you had never met Ms. Vaughn before 2023.”
Raina laughed bitterly.
Damon looked at her.
“Don't.”
“You just admitted she introduced us in 2021.”
The detective nodded.
“That interested us too.”
Damon's voice rose.
“I want a lawyer.”
“Good idea.”
“I mean now.”
“You're not under arrest.”
“Then I'm leaving.”
“No.”
Damon stopped.
The detective's tone remained calm.
“You're being detained while we clarify inconsistencies in a suspicious death investigation.”
Orson stepped closer.
“What happened to Bryce?”
The detective looked around.
“Mr. Holland died after falling from a hotel balcony in Miami.”
Raina's stomach turned.
“Falling?”
“Initially ruled accidental.”
“What changed?”
“A witness.”
“Who?”
The detective looked toward the open front door.
“She came forward yesterday.”
A woman was waiting outside.
Maybe fifty.
Short blond hair.
Nervous hands.
She entered slowly.
Damon's expression collapsed.
Raina whispered, “Who is she?”
Damon couldn't speak.
The woman looked directly at him.
“My name is Martha Cole.”
Raina turned.
Cole.
Damon's last name.
The woman swallowed.
“I'm Damon's mother.”
Raina stared at her.
In three years of marriage, Damon had told her his mother was dead.
“You said…”
Damon closed his eyes.
Raina looked at him.
“You told me your mother died when you were twelve.”
Martha's face crumpled.
“He tells people that.”
Raina felt rage rising.
“Why?”
“Because I left his father.”
Damon snapped.
“You abandoned us.”
“I escaped him.”
“You left me with him.”
“I tried to take you.”
“Enough!”
The detective stepped between them.
Martha shook.
“I saw Damon in Miami.”
Raina's breath caught.
The detective asked, “On the night Bryce Holland died?”
“Yes.”
Damon shouted, “She's lying!”
Martha flinched.
Raina watched him transform.
The charming mask fell away.
His face twisted.
“You don't know what you saw.”
Martha backed up.
The detective raised a hand.
“Mr. Cole.”
But Martha kept going.
“I saw Damon arguing with Bryce on the balcony.”
Damon went pale.
“No.”
“I heard Bryce say he was done.”
“Stop.”
“He said he was going to tell Raina everything.”
“Stop!”
Martha's voice broke.
“And then I saw Damon grab him.”
Raina's world went silent.
Damon stared at his mother.
“You didn't see what happened after that.”
Martha whispered:
“No.”
The detective frowned.
“What happened after that?”
Damon realized too late what he'd said.
Everyone stared at him.
The detective stepped closer.
“Mr. Cole…”
Damon backed away.
“I want my lawyer.”
“That's fine.”
“I didn't push him.”
Nobody moved.
Damon's face went white.
“I said I didn't push him.”
Raina whispered:
“No one said you did.”
And at that moment—
May you like
the detective reached for his handcuffs.
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