Chapter 2 - The Men at the Gate
Daniel Rourke was not private security.
The identification in his hand belonged to the Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation.
Financial Crimes and Public Integrity.
Behind him stood two DCI investigators.
Two investigators from the Attorney General’s Office.
The remaining men were county deputies.
The wedding guests had begun gathering behind the terrace doors.
Phones came out.
Daniel glanced once at them.
“Deputy.”
A uniformed officer moved toward Preston.
“Sir, keep your hands where we can see them.”
Preston stared at me.
“This is insane.”
Daniel looked at my lip.
“Mrs. Bennett, did he strike you?”
“Yes.”
Sarah appeared behind Cassandra.
“Mom.”
Her voice cracked.
I did not move.
Preston turned toward the guests.
“She was causing a scene.”
A deputy said:
“That wasn’t the question.”
Cassandra stepped forward.
“My son is the groom. This is a family disagreement.”
Daniel finally looked at her.
“Mrs. Sterling, I strongly recommend you stop deciding what kind of investigation this is.”
Her face tightened.
“What investigation?”
Daniel said nothing.
That frightened her more.
Local deputies separated Preston from us.
One photographed my injury.
Another asked whether I needed medical care.
I said no at first.
Daniel gave me the look Robert used when I claimed chest pain was indigestion.
I changed it.
“Maybe.”
Sarah stood three feet away.
Her bouquet hung from one hand.
“Mom, why did you call investigators to my wedding?”
“I didn’t bring them because of your wedding.”
“Then why are they here?”
Daniel answered before I could.
“Because your father asked us to be.”
Sarah froze.
“My father is dead.”
“Yes.”
The ballroom went quiet again.
Daniel looked at me.
“Do you want this conversation private?”
“Yes.”
He turned.
“Mrs. Bennett, Mrs. Sterling, Preston and counsel if he requests one. Everyone else stays inside.”
Preston laughed bitterly.
“Counsel?”
“You can call one.”
“What am I accused of?”
“For tonight? Deputies are handling the assault allegation.”
“And you?”
Daniel’s expression did not change.
“I haven’t accused you of anything yet.”
Yet.
That word hit.
Preston reached for Sarah.
She stepped away.
Just half a step.
He noticed.
So did I.
An ambulance arrived.
I let paramedics clean my lip while Daniel spoke quietly with a deputy.
No one handcuffed Preston immediately.
He was not running.
Witnesses everywhere.
The deputy explained he would be interviewed and the county attorney would determine assault charges after statements and video review.
That was less dramatic than Preston deserved.
It was also real.
Then Daniel asked:
“Do you still have the keys?”
I touched my purse.
“Yes.”
“Do not give them to anyone.”
Preston exploded.
“For God’s sake, they’re keys!”
Daniel looked at him.
“To what?”
“The farm.”
“All forty acres?”
Preston’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
Daniel continued:
“Farmhouse?”
“No.”
“Barns?”
“No.”
“Equipment shed?”
Preston’s eyes shifted.
“The office.”
There.
Daniel looked at me.
“What office?”
“The old feed office.”
Robert had converted a room inside the north barn into a farm office fifteen years earlier.
Tax files.
Seed contracts.
Old deeds.
Maps.
The land trust binder.
Robert’s notebooks.
I had not been inside for months.
Daniel’s expression sharpened.
“Did Preston know what was kept there?”
Sarah answered softly.
“Yes.”
I looked at her.
Her face turned pale.
“How?”
She began crying.
“I told him.”
The terrace seemed to tilt.
“What did you tell him?”
“That Dad kept property papers there.”
“Why?”
“He asked.”
“When?”
“Months ago.”
Preston stepped toward her.
“Sarah, stop talking.”
Daniel turned.
“Mr. Sterling.”
Preston stopped.
Daniel said:
“You may want counsel before instructing witnesses.”
Cassandra’s composure cracked.
“Witnesses?”
Daniel looked at Sarah.
“Mrs. Sterling, are you willing to speak with investigators separately?”
Sarah stared at her husband.
Then at me.
“I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Neither do I,” I said.
That was partly true.
Robert had warned me.
Daniel had called twice in eleven months.
He never told me everything.
He said Robert had provided documents showing Sterling Development might have been improperly acquiring land around the future highway route before public announcement.
He asked me not to confront anyone.
That was all.
Then Daniel reached into a file folder.
He removed a photograph.
Farm office door.
Taken three nights earlier.
The lock had fresh scratches.
My stomach dropped.
“Who took this?”
“An investigator.”
“You were watching my farm?”
“With your written consent.”
I remembered signing a property monitoring agreement after someone cut a fence last month.
I had not realized it meant surveillance.
Daniel continued.
“Someone tried the north barn door Tuesday at 11:18 p.m.”
“Who?”
He showed the next image.
Preston.
Baseball cap.
Dark jacket.
My daughter’s fiancé standing outside Robert’s office after midnight.
Sarah made a sound behind me.
Preston’s face hardened.
“I had permission.”
“From whom?” I asked.
“Sarah.”
Every eye turned to her.
Sarah shook her head.
“No.”
Preston stared.
“You gave me the code.”
“To the front gate.”
“You knew I needed documents.”
“No. You said you wanted to measure the barn because your architect thought it could be renovated for events.”
I looked at Sarah.
“Events?”
She whispered:
“He said if you gave us the farm someday, we could turn the north barn into a wedding venue.”
My heart broke in a different place.
Robert built that barn.
Preston had already redesigned it in his head.
Then Daniel produced another image.
Preston at the office door.
Beside him:
May you like
Cassandra.
Continue to the next part: Surveillance from Lydia’s farm shows Preston and Cassandra tried to enter Robert’s locked office days before the wedding, and Sarah realizes the key demand was planned long before the slap.
