The harbor police cutter pulled alongside the yacht, its heavy rubber bumpers slamming against the white hull. Four armed officers climbed the stern ladder, led by Detective Vance wearing a black tactical jacket and a gold badge.
Detective Vance: Harbor Police! Nobody move!
Evelyn: Detective! Thank God you're here! This woman attacked my husband and jumped off the deck to frame us!
Detective Vance: Mrs. Sterling, we monitored the entire incident via the automated marine deck camera feed sent to our station five minutes ago.
Detective Vance held up a digital tablet, displaying clear video of Evelyn violently shoving me off the yacht deck into the water while Marcus stood by watching.
Detective Vance: Evelyn Vance, you are under arrest for attempted murder, felony assault, and grand theft of estate property.
Evelyn: Get your hands off me! This dress costs fifty thousand dollars!
Detective Vance: Secure her, officers.
Two officers stepped forward, pulling Evelyn's arms behind her gold sequin dress. The cold click of steel handcuffs echoed sharply across the open deck.
Evelyn: Marcus! Do something! Call our corporate lawyers in New York!
Marcus: Detective, I didn't push her! I was trying to stop Evelyn!
Detective Vance: Marcus Sterling, you are under arrest for corporate trust fraud, attempted murder conspiracy, and wire laundering.
A third officer grabbed Marcus's wrists, snapping steel handcuffs around his navy suit sleeves as he groaned on the marble tile.
Marcus: Cora! Tell them I'm innocent! I love you, Cora!
Cora: You loved my father's sixty-million-dollar trust fund, Marcus. And now you can spend the next twenty years thinking about it in a state prison.
Detective Vance reached over, carefully unpinning the ruby brooch from Evelyn's dress. He handed the red gem back to me, his expression full of deep respect.
Detective Vance: Your mother's brooch belongs to you, Miss Cora. Your father's estate is completely safe now.
Cora: Thank you, Detective.
I held the cold ruby against my palm, holding my chin high as the officers guided Marcus and Evelyn down the stern ladder onto the police cutter. Camera flashes from a news boat that had followed the police signal exploded continuously across the bright water.
Evelyn thrashed against her handcuffs, trying to cover her face, but the photographers captured every second of her ruined makeup, rumpled gold dress, and total humiliation.
The cutter's engine roared, pulling away toward the harbor while the heavy ocean breeze blew my wet maroon velvet gown dry under the sun.