Chapter 4 - The Poisoned LegacyBy dawn, the mansion was surrounded not by local police, but by marked vehicles from the State Police Special Investigations Unit and the FBI.
In the basement beneath Arthur’s study, federal forensic technicians were using ground-penetrating radar on the concrete foundation. Evelyn’s tip about the floor safe had led us to something far worse: a double-walled steel vault buried beneath the wine cellar.
I stood beside Detective Miller and State Investigator Sarah Reyes as they pried open the heavy vault door.
Inside were rows of sealed glass vials, detailed financial journals, and a small, antique silver teapot.
Investigator Reyes picked up a glass vial with gloved hands. "Thallium sulfate. Highly toxic, odorless, tasteless. It mimics severe heart disease over prolonged exposure."
"Look at the ledger dates," Marcus noted, leaning in. "Every entry corresponds to a massive withdrawal from Arthur’s personal accounts into an offshore entity registered in the Cayman Islands under the name 'Vance & Montgomery Holdings'."
"Victoria wasn't just poisoning him," I realized out loud, my blood boiling. "She was draining his accounts while he was too sick to notice."
"It’s worse than that, Julian," Investigator Reyes said quietly, looking up from a file folder retrieved from the safe. "We just received the preliminary exhumation order from the State Medical Examiner. They exhumed Arthur’s body at midnight. The quick-tox screen on his tissue samples returned positive for lethal levels of thallium."
My knees felt weak. Hearing it confirmed hit me like a physical blow. My father—a man who had survived financial collapses, built an empire, and raised me with strong hands—had been systematically put to death in his own bed by the woman who slept beside him.
"Where is she?" I demanded.
"In custody at the federal detention center," Reyes said. "Her bail was revoked by a federal magistrate two hours ago. Neither she nor Donald Vance will ever see the outside of a prison wall again."
Just then, my phone rang. It was the hospital.
"Mr. Montgomery?" a doctor's voice said urgently over the line. "You need to come back to the ICU immediately. Your wife... someone just tried to access her room pretending to be a physical therapist."
My heart jumped into my throat. "Is she alright?!"
"She's fine—security intercepted the woman before she could enter. But the suspect fled down the stairwell. We have the hospital on lockdown."
"I'm on my way," I snapped, dropping the phone and sprinting toward the door.
Chloe was missing.
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When the police had arrested Victoria and Donald at the house earlier that morning, Chloe had slipped out through the back garden while the federal marshals were securing Donald.
She wasn't running away to hide. She was going to finish what she started.
