"He's outside right now, finding you a lawyer."
"Fine. Let him in."
"I have something to say to him."
Sebastian Finch walked in wearing a tailored suit, his face tight with concern.
"Savannah! Are you okay? Did they mistreat you?"
"Don't worry. I'm getting you the best lawyer. I'll have you out of here, I promise."
My parents sat beside him, dabbing at their eyes.
Looking at them, my heart still ached a little.
"Dad, Mom, I'm fine."
"I'll be out soon. We'll spend the holiday together."
Then I turned to Sebastian and let out a cold laugh.
"Sebastian, you can drop the act."
"Deep down, you must be thrilled right now."
He froze.
"Savannah, what are you talking about? We're getting married. Why would I—"
"I said drop it." I cut him off. "You sabotaged that plane's landing gear, didn't you?"
His expression shifted instantly.
Not just him—the two officers beside him, my mom and dad—everyone went rigid.
"Savannah! Stop talking crazy!" Mom nearly slid off her chair.
"You wanted me to die on that plane. Make it look like an accident."
"Because that was the only way to collect the massive insurance payout under my name—plus the company's compensation."
"Oh, and that mistress you've been hiding out of town? Was she waiting for this money to have your baby?"
Sweat beaded on Sebastian's forehead.
"Savannah, you've been through too much. You're not thinking straight."
"How could I ever hurt you? I'm an engineer. I understand aircraft safety better than anyone—"
"No. You understand better than anyone where it isn't safe." I cut him off with a cold smile.
"You've heard the black box recording by now, haven't you?"
"That 911 call? That was me."
"Because I figured out your plan a long time ago."
"Officer—I'm formally reporting my fiancé, Sebastian Finch. He is a prime suspect in this case."
Sebastian abruptly ended his call, shot to his feet, and headed for the door.
"What's wrong? Feeling guilty?"
I pressed against the glass, watching him flee like the coward he was. Satisfaction surged through me.
"Savannah Pruitt, your fiancé is an engineer—yes, he has access to the aircraft. But that doesn't make him the killer!"
Joel Lambert, for once, kept his composure. "Do you have evidence?"
I leaned back in my chair. "Of course I do."
"It's in the watch on his wrist."
"That watch was my wedding gift to him."
"There's a miniature recorder hidden inside."