When the handcuffs closed, Celeste screamed his name.
The older detective approached me afterward.
“We have the shooter’s cooperation, corroborating location records, and the payment trail,” she said quietly. “The prosecutor authorized the charges this morning.”
I braced myself against the courthouse wall.
For weeks, I had imagined triumph would feel loud.
Instead, I could barely breathe.
“Did my dad know?”
“We can’t answer that.”
I appreciated that she refused to invent comfort.
Celeste was arrested two months later for her role in the financing fraud and for destroying evidence after Grant warned her about the investigation.
Prosecutors never claimed she helped plan the murders.
There was enough she had actually done.
Blake avoided charges by returning everything he had taken and cooperating.
His driveway video became evidence in my civil case.
He deleted it from his phone.
He couldn’t delete the copy he had sent me.
