Chapter 2 - The Anatomy of a Parasite
The air inside Vance’s office grew so still you could hear the soft whir of the radiator against the cold windowpane.
Sarah looked between Vance and me, her face utterly drained of color. "My trust fund? The money my parents left behind?"
"The Mercer family didn't stumble into your life by accident, Sarah," Vance said, pulling a secondary file from his bottom drawer. "When Derek started dating you two years ago, he was three hundred thousand dollars in debt from failed day-trading ventures and defaulted commercial loans. His mother’s real estate company was facing foreclosure."
I felt a cold rage settling into my marrow. "How do you know this, Vance?"
"Because when your father established your family trust six years ago, he hired my firm to run background checks on anyone who ever tried to sign a joint lease or business agreement with you," Vance explained. "Six months ago, I noticed Derek’s name popped up on a credit inquiry regarding your trust fund’s interest yields. I sent you a letter, Sarah. Do you remember?"
Sarah lowered her head, tears finally escaping her eyes and tracing paths down her cheeks. "I remember... Derek intercepted the mail. He told me it was just routine junk mail from the bank. He got so angry whenever I mentioned my father's estate... he said I didn't trust him, that a real marriage meant total transparency..."
"He gaslit you," I said softly, walking over to kneel beside her chair, wrapping my big, calloused hand around her freezing fingers. "He wore you down while you were carrying his child, making you feel weak so you wouldn't ask questions."
"Uncle Thomas..." Sarah sobbed, her body shaking under the fleece quilt. "They took my mother’s picture. They threw it in the snow outside the door. Lydia looked me right in the eyes through the window when the taxi pulled up... she smiled at me while two men were carrying my baby's crib out to a moving truck."
I squeezed her hand tightly, my voice dropping into a register of iron certainty. "Listen to me, Sarah. Look at me."
She wiped her eyes and looked at me.
"They think you’re an orphan with no one standing behind you," I said. "They think because your parents are gone, they can tear your life apart, steal your home, and take your son. But they forgot about me. I spent thirty years operating heavy machinery in logging camps and building infrastructure across this state. I know how to break heavy things. And I know how to put people in the ground legally."
Vance cleared his throat, pulling out a yellow legal pad. "First things first. The temporary protective order hasn't been signed by a judge yet. Derek filed it under emergency status, but the duty judge today is Honorable Judge Miriam Sterling—a woman who has zero tolerance for ex parte custody grabs without verified medical evidence."
"What about that affidavit from Derek's uncle?" I asked.
"Dr. Arthur Vance is a disgraced psychiatrist who almost lost his medical license five years ago for prescribing controlled substances to corporate executives," Vance said with a predatory smile. "If he signed a fraudulent medical affidavit declaring a woman unstable without having conducted a formal in-person psychiatric evaluation within forty-eight hours, he has committed perjury and medical malpractice."
Vance reached for his desk phone and pressed a speed-dial button. "Martha, get me Sheriff Robert Miller on the line. Tell him Thomas Beckett is in my office, and we are reporting a grand larceny, an illegal eviction, and a fraudulent real estate filing in progress."
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Vance looked up at me as the phone began to ring. "Thomas, where are you going to stay tonight?"
"My cabin on Pine Crest Road," I said. "It’s off the grid, fully heated, secure, and has three security gates. No one gets near Sarah or Leo without going through twelve inches of reinforced timber and me."
