Chapter 5 - THE FIANCÉ'S SECRET
"No." Molly’s voice was barely a whisper. She let go of Helen’s arm, stepping backward as if the detective had physically struck her. "No, that’s impossible. Aris wouldn't do that. He’s a doctor. He saves lives."
Helen stared at her daughter, her own heart shattering all over again. Aris Thorne was thirty-five, impeccably charismatic, and the rising star of the hospital's administration. He had courted Molly perfectly, charmed Patrick at every family dinner, and always brought Helen her favorite orchids.
"Molly," Helen said softly, reaching for her daughter’s hand.
Molly pulled away, shaking her head frantically. "This is Diane lying! She’s trying to drag everyone down with her! Aris doesn't even talk to Dad outside of family dinners!"
"Actually, Molly, that's not entirely true," Robert Hayes interjected gently, his face lined with deep regret. He pulled another document from his manila folder. "When the auditors were tracking the two hundred thousand dollars Patrick sent to Diane, they found a secondary cash withdrawal made six months ago. Exactly fifty thousand dollars. Withdrawn from the company’s petty cash reserve over three weeks to avoid bank reporting limits."
"That doesn't mean it went to Aris!" Molly cried, tears spilling over her cheeks.
"Molly, look at the date," Robert said softly, handing the paper to Helen.
Helen read the date of the final cash withdrawal. October 14th.
It was the exact same day Aris had surprised Molly by paying off the massive, non-refundable deposit for their luxury wedding venue in full—a deposit Patrick had claimed he couldn't help with.
"Oh, God," Molly choked out, covering her mouth with her hands. "Aris told me his grandmother left him a small inheritance. He said he wanted to give us the perfect wedding."
"He used the blood money from your father to pay for your wedding," Helen whispered, the sheer cruelty of the betrayal making her nauseous. Patrick hadn't just plotted to kill her; he had enlisted her future son-in-law to supply the weapon, ensuring the entire family was complicit in the nightmare.
The detective cleared his throat. "We’ve dispatched a unit to Dr. Thorne’s residence, but he wasn't there. His vehicle is gone, and his phone is turned off. We believe Patrick may have tipped him off before his arrest."
"Where would he go?" Helen asked, turning to Molly. "Molly, think. If Aris knows the police are looking for him, where would he hide?"
Molly was hyperventilating, staring blankly at the police cruisers. "I don't know... he doesn't have family here. He always goes to his cabin in the Poconos when he’s stressed, but it’s a three-hour drive."
Helen shook her head. "He wouldn't go far. He’s arrogant, but he’s not stupid. He needs cash to run."
Helen closed her eyes, forcing the panic down, leaning on thirty years of ER nursing experience to focus her mind. Aris was a pharmacist. He was meticulous. If he was running, he wouldn't leave his loose ends untied.
"The hospital," Helen said suddenly, opening her eyes. "He’s at the hospital."
The detective frowned. "Ma'am, he wouldn't go back to his workplace if he’s on the run."
"He would if he left a paper trail," Helen insisted, her voice firm. "To synthesize concentrated digitalis, he would have had to steal raw digoxin from the pharmacy lockup. He’s the department head. He knows there’s a quarterly inventory audit on Monday. If he doesn't alter the digital logs in his office to cover the missing inventory, the DEA will be on him before the local police even finish their paperwork."
The detective looked at his partner, then nodded. "Get a unit to the hospital. Now."
"I'm going with you," Helen demanded.
"Ma'am, this is a police matter—"
"I have master keycard access to the pharmacy wing," Helen cut him off. "It’s Saturday. The administrative floors are locked down. Your officers will spend twenty minutes waiting for security to override the elevators. I can get you to his office in two."
The detective hesitated, then gestured to his cruiser. "Get in."
Molly climbed into the back seat beside Helen, trembling violently. Helen held her daughter tightly as the cruiser sped through the streets of Philadelphia, the siren wailing a grim warning.
They arrived at the towering glass hospital complex in less than ten minutes. Helen led the two detectives through the side staff entrance, swiping her badge to bypass the weekend security lockdown.
The hallways were quiet, smelling of bleach and sterile air. They took the service elevator to the fourth floor, moving swiftly toward the administrative pharmacy wing.
As they approached Aris’s corner office, Helen noticed the heavy oak door was slightly ajar. A faint, frantic clicking sound echoed from inside—someone typing furiously on a keyboard.
The lead detective drew his weapon and signaled for Helen and Molly to stay back. He kicked the door open.
"Police! Hands in the air!"
Inside the office, Aris Thorne froze. He was standing behind his desk, holding a heavy external hard drive in one hand and furiously deleting files on his computer with the other. Several open duffel bags were scattered across the floor, filled with medical supplies and stacks of cash.
"Aris," Molly sobbed from the doorway, unable to stay back. "How could you?"
Aris looked at Molly, his handsome face twisting from panic into a cold, cornered anger.
"Molly, you don't understand," Aris said smoothly, slowly raising his hands but keeping a tight grip on the hard drive. "Your father forced me into this. He threatened to ruin my career if I didn't help him!"
"By giving him the poison to kill my mother?!" Molly screamed, stepping into the room despite the detective's warning. "You paid for our wedding with the money he gave you to kill her!"
"It was a business arrangement!" Aris snapped, his charming facade completely gone. "Your father was going down, Molly! He was going to drag you down with him when the firm collapsed! I was securing our future!"
"Secure this," Helen said coldly, stepping into the room.
She didn't yell. She didn't cry. Helen walked directly up to the desk, grabbed the heavy marble nameplate sitting next to his keyboard—the one that read Dr. Aris Thorne, Head of Pharmacy—and smashed it with all her strength directly into his computer monitor.
The screen shattered into a spiderweb of black glass, sparking violently before going dead. The deletion process was instantly severed.
Aris lunged forward with a furious shout, but the detective tackled him over the desk, slamming him onto the carpet and wrenching his arms behind his back.
"You ruined everything!" Aris spat at Helen as the handcuffs clicked into place.
"No, Aris," Helen said, looking down at the man who had almost destroyed her daughter's life. "I just prescribed you a dose of reality."
As the officers hauled Aris out of the office, Helen noticed something sitting on the corner of his desk, half-hidden by a stack of files.
It was a small, velvet jewelry box.
Helen frowned. She reached over and opened it.
Inside sat a stunning, vintage diamond engagement ring. But it wasn't Molly's ring. Molly was already wearing hers.
May you like
Helen pulled out the small receipt tucked beneath the velvet cushion. It was dated two days ago, billed to Aris's private credit card.
The engraving order on the receipt read: For Vanessa. Forever.
