“The conversation happened under that camera.
There should be audio.”
Detective Bell immediately spoke into his radio, asking hospital security to preserve all footage from the emergency entrance and observation corridor.
Margaret’s face tightened.
“This performance is over.
Ethan, call our attorney.”
“No calls yet,” Ruiz said.
“We are securing the scene and separating witnesses.
You will each have the opportunity to contact counsel.”
A security supervisor arrived holding a clear evidence bag.
Inside was a brass key with a white plastic tag.
GUEST HOUSE.
“We found this under the passenger seat of Mr.
Brandon Prescott’s vehicle,” he told Ruiz.
“The vehicle was parked in the ambulance zone and scheduled for towing.
Mr.
Prescott gave written consent for an inventory search before we heard the recording.”
Brandon stared at the key.
Then he looked at his mother.
“You said they would never search the car.”
Margaret’s eyes flashed.
“Be quiet.”
Ruiz caught the exchange.
“Mr.
Prescott, did you use this key to lock Emily inside the guest house?”
Brandon swallowed.
“I want a lawyer.”
“That is your right.”
Ethan reached for Emily’s bedrail.
“Em, tell them this is a misunderstanding.
Tell them you were upset.”
I stepped between them.
“You will not speak to her.”
He looked at me with the same contempt he had shown when I entered the room.
“You think that uniform makes you powerful?”
“No,” I said.
“It reminds me not to confuse anger with action.”
Detective Ruiz placed a hand near her cuffs.
“Mr.
Prescott, step back now.”
He obeyed.
Only then did the nurse close the door, leaving Emily, Detective Ruiz, and me inside while the others were escorted into separate rooms.
Emily began to shake.
The strength she had used to survive them was leaving her body all at once.
I sat beside her and held her hand while Ruiz explained each step carefully.
Emily could request an advocate.
She could have a forensic examination.
She could decline to answer anything until she felt ready.
The police would apply for a warrant to search the guest house, but the voicemail, injuries, key, and hospital statements already gave them enough to begin.
Emily stared at the closed door.
“They’ll get out of it,” she said.
“They always get out of everything.”
“Not tonight,” Ruiz replied.
Emily gave a small, hopeless laugh.
“You don’t know them.”
