Page 35 of The Birthday Girl
Ramirez smirked. “Funny how fast people bring up lawyers when nobody accused them of murder.”
“You can call whoever you want, but remember, lawyers can’t erase data trails,” Vega said. “And that baby shower photo? The one that hit the blogs. The one that showed Lawson bleeding all over the floor? Tech traced it back to your phone.”
Danielle’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she swallowed so hard both detectives were able to track the movement down her throat. Her fingers stopped their drumming against the chair, freezing mid-tap.
Vega leaned back slightly, giving her room to breathe. “Now, you can tell me Shanice came here and left, fine, but the timing, the photo, and the lies you fed us are stacking up against you fast.”
Danielle’s eyes flashed, a mix of fear and fury. She pushed away from the chair and crossed her arms tightly. “I’m not saying another word without representation.”
“Suit yourself,” Vega said. “But understand this, we’ll talk again. It doesn’t matter whether it’s across your dining table or across a steel one downtown.”
Vega's phone vibrated just as he finished speaking. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the notification, his expression shifting almost imperceptibly before he set the device face down. Ramirez's eyes tracked the movement, his posture tensing in silent question.
“Who was that?” Ramirez asked.
“Harper,” Vega said. He replied, his focus on Danielle. “We just got confirmation from forensics and the marine unit. They recovered debris from your parents’ boat. It didn’t blow because of a mechanical failure.”
Confusion clouded Danielle’s expression, and her voice trembled as she repeated, “My parents’ boat? Blown? Mechanical failure? What are you talking about?”
Vega’s eyes narrowed, his instincts kicking against what he was seeing. “You don’t know?”
Danielle pushed back from the table so suddenly her chair tipped and clattered against the floor. “Know what?” Her hands flew to her temples as if she could steady the world tilting beneath her. “I haven’t spoken to them in weeks. What happened?”
Ramirez glanced at Vega, then back at Danielle, weighing the rawness in her voice. “The marine unit recovered wreckage offshore. There was an explosion. No remains were found, so your parents are presumed dead.”
Danielle staggered back a step, pressing her fist against her mouth. “No… no, that’s not possible. They’re in the Caribbean. They’re—” She broke off, her eyes wild, darting between both detectives as though begging them to deny it.
“They never made it,” Vega said quietly. His tone carried no softness, only the steel of fact. “And it wasn’t an accident. Forensics are clear. The boat was bombed.”
Danielle’s knees buckled, and she caught herself against the counter, her breath hitching. “Bombed?” she whispered, her voice a ragged scrape. “You’re telling me my parents were murdered?”
Neither detective answered right away. The silence itself was confirmation.
Danielle let out a hollow laugh, high and brittle. She dragged both hands down her face, smearing the tears beginning to gather. “First Tyriq, then Mercedes, and now my parents? Who the hell is doing this?”
Vega studied her closely, every twitch of her expression, and every tear she allowed to fall. For the first time that night, he didn’t know if he was staring at a grieving daughter or a woman whose mask was cracking under the weight of too many lies.
“You mean to tell us that your sister never notified you about the explosion?” Ramirez said, his eyes narrowed.
Danielle’s head snapped toward him, disbelief and fury flashing across her face. “This is the first I’m hearing any of this! Why would Tahlia know before me?”
“Because her name is on the deed,” Vega replied. “The Coast Guard contacted the legal owner of the boat. That was your sister.”
Danielle froze, her lips parting as the truth struck. “So, she knew,” she whispered, her tone laced with grief. “She knew, and she didn’t say a word to me.” Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. “I swear I hate that bitch.”
Ramirez shook his head. “I’ve never spoken that way about my sibling. Something tells me that if she kept it from you, maybe she had her reasons. Or maybe she didn’t trust you to know.”
Danielle let out a harsh laugh, tears streaming down her face.
“Trust me? I’m her sister. I had just as much right to know as she did.
Maybe even more.” She slammed her palm against the table, rattling the folder Vega had dropped earlier.
“I’m the only one who is always there for our parents. Not her. Me!”
Vega studied Danielle in silence, his jaw working as though grinding down the possibility that she wasn’t faking.
“Sounds like you’ve got two problems: Shanice showing up here the night she died, and now your parents’ boat going up in flames.
You may not have known about either, but they both landed at your doorstep. ”
Danielle’s chest rose and fell in frantic jerks, but her eyes flicked upward, catching Vega’s with a flash of defiance. “Then maybe you should be asking Tahlia the hard questions, Detective. Because it looks like she’s the one keeping secrets.”
Vega tilted his head, his gaze never leaving her face. “Don’t worry. She’ll be questioned, but you don’t get a pass just because you’re good at pointing fingers.”
Danielle dragged the heel of her palm across her damp cheeks, her voice breaking before morphing into rage.
“I’m not pointing a finger. I’m telling you the truth.
Tahlia’s the one with the money, the power, and her name on everything.
All of that is what you would call motive.
She’ll do anything to ensure her empire stays intact. ”
Ramirez leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “And yet, it’s your phone that leaked the Lawson photo, your porch that Shanice stopped at the night she died, and your parents’ deaths we’re talking about right now. See the pattern?”
Danielle’s mouth trembled, her chin tipping defiantly. “I didn’t kill Shanice, and I didn’t blow up my parents’ boat. You want me to say it again? Fine. I. Didn’t. Do. It.” She jabbed a finger at the folder on the table. “If that’s all you’ve got, then you’re wasting your time.”
Vega reached for the folder, tucking it under his arm. “We’ll be back, and when we do, you’d better hope your sister’s story isn’t more believable than yours.”
Danielle forced a bitter smile through her tears. “Good. Go to her. You’ll see the kind of monster she really is.”
Vega and Ramirez exchanged a look, then moved toward the door. As they stepped back out into the rain, Vega glanced back at Danielle one last time. She still stood by the table, her fists pressed flat against the wood, her shadow stretching long across the dining room floor.
Outside, Vega exhaled, his shoulders taut.
“What do you think?” Ramirez asked.
Vega’s eyes stayed on the windows of the house. “Either we just witnessed an Oscar-worthy performance, or she's genuinely clueless about the quicksand she's standing in. I’ve seen enough families spiral to know that even the best liars eventually trip over their stories.”
Ramirez slid his hands into his pockets, eyes narrowing at the bleak horizon. “Yeah. And she didn’t waste a second throwing Tahlia under the bus.”
Vega shook his head, rain dripping from his jawline. “There’s no love lost between those two. She went straight for her throat.”
“Yeah,” Ramirez agreed. “But if she didn’t know her parents were gone… that kind of pain isn’t easy to fake.”
Vega started the engine, letting the heater fog the windows as he watched Danielle through the glass. Her silhouette hovered in the foyer, shoulders trembling with the force of her breathing.
“She’s scared,” Vega said.
“Shouldn’t she be?” Ramirez asked, turning to him. “Between Tahlia, the dead ex, the boat… If I were her, I’d lock my doors and never sleep again.”
Vega snapped the folder shut and rested it on the dashboard. “We’ll put a tail on Danielle tomorrow to see where she goes and who she talks to. Right now, I want her thinking we bought half her story.”
Ramirez leaned back in his seat, watching the wipers swipe the windshield clean. “And the other half?”
Vega’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “The other half belongs to Tahlia. One sister is hiding something, the other is playing dumb. Maybe both are killers.” He shifted into gear, the cruiser rolling away from the curb.
Through the rain-smeared glass, Danielle’s figure shrank in the rearview mirror.
“She’s right about one thing,” Ramirez said. “Tahlia’s got the power. If this all ties back to her, we’re not chasing a grieving daughter, we’re chasing a serial killer.”
“And if Danielle’s lying, she’s more dangerous than her sister. Either way, this family’s rotten to the core.”