CHAPTER 12: Reassembly
CHAPTER 12: Reassembly
I knelt down on the marble floor. I picked up the heavy titanium pylon, which was cold to the touch. I gathered the shattered pieces of the custom carbon-fiber shell, putting the larger shards into my suit pockets so we didn't leave a mess for the club’s staff.
I brought the pylon over to Sarah. I knelt beside her good leg, holding the top of the metal shaft up to the bottom of her thigh.
“Lean on me,” I told her.
She rested her hand firmly on my shoulder. I lined up the four heavy titanium bolts and used my hex wrench to secure the socket back onto the metal frame. I twisted the carbon-fiber foot back onto the bottom lock until it clicked securely into place.
It wasn't pretty. The sleek black shell was destroyed, exposing the raw, industrial metal tubing underneath. It looked salvaged, mechanical, and raw. But it was functional.
Sarah tested her weight on it, stepping down firmly. The leg held.
“Good as new,” she joked, though her voice wavered slightly from the massive adrenaline crash that was beginning to hit both of us.
“We’ll get you a new one,” I promised her, standing up and wiping my hands. “The best one on the market. Titanium, carbon fiber, maybe even some racing stripes.”
“I liked this one,” Sarah said, looking down at the exposed metal. “It had character. It was a damn good safe.”
I laughed, a genuine, relieved sound that felt foreign in my chest after six months of constant, low-grade anxiety.
Agent Miller walked back into the lobby from the parking lot. “The suspect is secured in the transport vehicle,” he announced to the room at large. “However, nobody is leaving just yet. We need statements from everyone who witnessed the physical assault on this woman, as well as anyone who holds a position on the board of Apex Holdings.”
A collective groan of despair rippled through the wealthy crowd. Their perfect, elite evening had officially turned into a federal criminal investigation. They were going to be interrogated, their names put into police reports, their financial associations with Eleanor scrutinized by the state.
“What about us?” I asked Agent Miller.
May you like
“You two are free to go,” Miller said, offering a slight, respectful smile. “We have the physical evidence, and the emergency line recorded the entire sequence of events. We will contact you tomorrow morning for formal statements. Get your wife home, Julian. She’s been through enough tonight.”
“Thank you, Agent Miller,” I said, shaking his hand.
