Chapter 7 - The Interrogation
By sunrise, the interrogation room at the Richmond State Police barracks smelled of cheap coffee and stale floor wax.
I sat behind the observation glass in the adjacent monitoring room, watching through the one-way mirror as Detective Sergeant Miller slid a thick manila folder across the metal table.
Colin sat on the other side, his tailored suit rumpled, his hair disheveled, looking every bit like a man whose meticulously constructed world had just imploded. Next to him sat his defense attorney—a high-priced corporate lawyer who looked like he wanted to strangle Colin himself for talking to investigators without an airtight alibi.
In the corner of the room, Vanessa sat in a hard plastic chair, having arrived thirty minutes earlier after the police executed a search warrant on her suburban estate. She had been crying hysterically when she walked into the station, but now she sat in stunned, terrified silence.
"Mr. Doyle, let’s go over the digital forensics report one more time," Detective Miller said calmly, tapping the stack of printed security logs. "We have high-definition video of you entering Colonel Carter's kitchen at 3:14 PM yesterday, extracting an amber dropper bottle from your breast pocket, and dispensing a controlled cardiac sedative into the victim's thermos cup. We also have financial wire transfer records showing three hundred thousand dollars funneled from Whitaker Foodservice Supply accounts directly into an offshore shell company registered in your name."
Colin stared at the table, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle ticked in his cheek. He didn't say a word.
"Where is Vanessa in all of this?" Miller continued, glancing toward my sister. "Did she know you targeted her sister's drink?"
Vanessa snapped upright in her chair. "No! I swear to God I didn't know! Colin told me he was just going into the house to check on the catering supplies! He didn't tell me he put anything in the cup!"
"Vanessa, stop talking," her attorney hissed, leaning over to whisper urgently in her ear.
"I'm not going to prison for his crimes!" Vanessa screamed, her voice cracking as tears spilled down her face. She turned to Colin, her eyes blazing with fury. "You said we just needed to scare her! You said we just needed her out of the way so she’d drop the audit! You never said anything about poisoning a child!"
Colin slowly turned his head to look at his wife. The look he gave her was not one of love or protection; it was cold, bitter, and entirely transactional.
"If you hadn't left the unicorn cup sitting right there on the counter where the little girl could grab it, none of this would have happened," Colin said coldly.
The confession hung in the interrogation room like poison gas.
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Behind the one-way mirror, I let out a long, slow breath, closing my eyes for a single second to thank whatever guardian angel had watched over Lucy yesterday.
They had turned on each other. The illusion of family loyalty had shattered the moment the legal hammer came down.
