Chapter 7 - The Final Confrontation
Two weeks later.
The Franklin County Detention Center was stark, smelling of heavy floor wax and industrial bleach.
I sat on one side of the thick plexiglass partition in the attorney consultation room. On the other side sat Estelle.
Her cream designer suit was gone, replaced by a oversized orange jumpsuit. Her hair was unwashed, pulled back into a messy bun, and her polished fingernails were bitten down to the quick. She looked twenty years older than she had on the lawn two weeks ago.
She picked up the plastic telephone with trembling hands. I picked up mine.
"Are you happy now, Grace?" Estelle spat, her voice raspy through the electronic speaker. "Coleman is facing ten years in federal prison! They're denying him bail! His arm needed reconstructive surgery because of what you did to him!"
"Coleman is facing ten years because he signed six fraudulent federal sub-contracts," I replied, my voice cool and unbothered. "And his arm will heal long before he finishes his sentence."
"You ruined us!" she sobbed, pressing her forehead against the glass. "I gave your father the best years of my life! I deserved that estate! I deserved that money!"
"You poisoned him, Estelle," I said softly.
The room went dead quiet.
Estelle froze, her bloodshot eyes staring at me through the glass.
"The medical examiner completed the exhumation audit on Dad's remains three days ago," I continued, leaning closer to the microphone. "They found chronic levels of heavy-metal toxins in his tissue—the same toxins present in the specialized fertilizer products you imported for your greenhouse."
Estelle's hands began to shake violently. "No... no, that's impossible... he had cancer..."
"The prosecutor is adding first-degree murder to your indictment this afternoon," I said, placing my hand flat against the glass. "You will never leave a state facility for the rest of your natural life."
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She dropped the receiver. It dangled against the metal wall, emitting a high-pitched electronic whine as she collapsed backward into her chair, weeping uncontrollably as the corrections officers stepped in to lead her away.
I placed my phone back on the hook, stood up, and walked out into the bright Ohio sun.
