Chapter 5 - Unraveling the Web
Four hours later, two unmarked black SUVs pulled into the rear bay of the clinic. Four heavily armed state tactical officers stepped out, securing the perimeter while Agent Sarah Vance walked inside.
Sarah was forty-five, sharp-eyed, wearing a tailored charcoal suit with a federal badge pinned to her belt. She looked at Clara, who was now conscious, sitting up in bed wrapped in a blanket, color slowly returning to her cheeks.
"Miss Vance—or rather, Miss Miller," Sarah said gently, pulling up a chair beside the bed. "I've reviewed your father's evidence and Dr. Miller's medical reports. What happened to you on that estate is a federal crime."
Clara looked at me, then back at Sarah. The fear in her eyes was being replaced by something solid—the same stubborn resolve she had inherited from me.
"It wasn't just the cage," Clara said, her voice stronger now. "Richard realized three weeks ago that I found the secondary ledger in his study. His father, Victor, was using our marriage to legitimize foreign capital coming in from Eastern European holding companies. When I refused to sign the property deeds transferring the guest house into one of those shell accounts, Richard snapped. He took my keys, my phone, and my shoes. He locked me in the master suite first... then, when I tried to use the landline, he dragged me out to the kennels."
"Did Sheriff Higgins ever visit the property during this time?" Sarah asked, taking notes.
"He was there on Tuesday," Clara revealed, her fists tightening on the blanket. "He had dinner with Richard on the patio while I was screaming from the master bedroom upstairs. He knew, Agent Vance. He looked right at the window where I was hitting the glass, smiled, and drank his wine."
Sarah closed her notebook with a quiet, lethal snap. "Local corruption at its finest. That gives us jurisdiction under the RICO Act. We don't need local warrants anymore."
Sarah turned to me. "Arthur, we need to secure the original physical ledger from the mansion before Victor Vance realizes we have the digital files and burns the house down."
"The mansion is on lockdown," I noted. "Richard has private armed security guards from a third-party firm stationed around the perimeter now."
"Then we go in hard," Sarah said.
"No," I countered, looking at the layout map of the Vance estate displayed on my laptop screen. "If you send a federal raid team up the main driveway with sirens blaring, Victor Vance’s shredder trucks will be operating before your officers clear the front gates. We need a clean, silent entry. I know the estate layout. I know the security bypasses."
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"Arthur, you're a civilian now," Sarah warned. "I can't officially authorize you to execute a tactical entry."
"I'm not asking for authorization, Sarah," I said, checking the action on my custom SIG Sauer nine-millimeter sidearm. "I'm offering to lead your team through the blind spots."
