Chapter 9 - The Arrest on the Altar
Sheriff Vance stepped forward onto the altar, pulling a pair of heavy, polished steel handcuffs from his leather belt.
"Arthur Sterling," Sheriff Vance announced, his voice echoing clearly over the house speakers. "You are under arrest for federal bank fraud, grand larceny, forgery of legal instruments, and felony child endangerment."
CLACK.
The steel cuff snapped tightly around Arthur's right wrist.
"No! Wait! You don't understand!" Arthur screamed, thrashing wildly against the two state investigators holding him down. "It was Evelyn! She planned the transfers! She wanted the money! I did it for us!"
Evelyn snapped, her face twisting into pure, hysterical rage. She ripped her sixty-thousand-dollar veil off her head, throwing it directly into Arthur's face.
"You pathetic coward!" Evelyn shrieked, lunging at him with her nails extended before her father pulled her back. "You told me the money was yours! You told me your wife was broke! You ruined my life!"
The crowd went completely wild. Guests were scrambling toward the exits, phones held high in the air, recording every second of the spectacular, catastrophic collapse of Savannah’s most anticipated wedding.
Sheriff Vance twisted Arthur’s other hand behind his back and snapped the second cuff closed.
CLACK.
Arthur was forced down onto his knees on the flower-strewn carpet of the altar, right in front of the two hundred guests who had come to celebrate his triumph.
His tailored black tuxedo was rumpled and covered in white flower petals; his hair was wild; tears of sheer panic finally poured down his pale, sweaty face.
He raised his head, looking up toward the mezzanine balcony one last time.
I stood at the railing, flanked by his three daughters.
Lucy took a small step forward, looking down at her father on his knees. She didn't look angry. She didn't look triumphant. She simply looked at him with the quiet, devastating detachment of someone who had completely removed him from her heart.
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Lucy reached into her coat pocket, pulled out the small metallic silver voice recorder—the one containing his cruel words about abandoning them—and held it up for him to see.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she turned around, taking her little sisters by their hands, and walked away toward the exit without looking back once.
