Chapter 3 - THE SHADOW OVER AURORA
Headline: THE ACCIDENT WAS A setup! NEW EVIDENCE PROVES MY BROTHER’S BRAKE LINES WERE SEVERED BY A SILENT HITMAN!The rain had turned into a steady, freezing drizzle by the time I left Richard’s office. I didn't go home. My home wasn't safe. Instead, I drove to a nondescript diner on the outskirts of Aurora, not far from the stretch of highway where Daniel had lost his life.
The neon sign of The Silver Star Diner flickered weakly through the mist. Inside, the air smelled of grease, burnt coffee, and cheap tobacco.
Sitting in the corner booth was a man wearing a faded canvas jacket, his eyes scanning the entrance. This was Marcus Vance (no relation to Ryan, ironically)—a private investigator and former Chicago homicide detective whom Daniel had hired three weeks before his death.
I slid into the booth opposite him. He looked at me, his eyes tired but sharp.
"You look like you've seen a ghost, kid," Marcus said, pushing a mug of black coffee toward me.
"I listened to the voicemail," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "And we just read the will. Ryan and Vanessa are ruined. But they know I have the power now."
Marcus nodded slowly. "They're cornered animals, Emily. And cornered animals bite. I've been digging into the 'drunk driver' who hit your brother. A guy named Gary Thomas. He’s got three previous DUIs, a rap sheet as long as my arm, and a serious gambling debt."
"Was it just an accident?" I asked, gripping the warm coffee mug. "Richard said the brake lines were cut."
"The brake lines were cut, which meant even if Gary didn't hit him, Daniel was going to crash," Marcus explained, leaning in. "But here’s the kicker. Gary Thomas didn't just happen to be on that road. He was tipped off. I pulled Gary’s phone records from the night of the crash. Ten minutes before he crossed the median, he received a call from a burner phone. The tower pings put the burner phone right outside Daniel’s office in Joliet."
"Ryan," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. "Ryan was at the office late that night. He told me he was finishing up the quarterly audits."
"It gets worse," Marcus said. "I tracked down Gary Thomas's bank accounts. Two days ago, a wire transfer of five hundred thousand dollars landed in a shell account in his sister's name. The origin of the wire? A logistics consultancy firm called Apex Transit Solutions."
I frowned. "Apex? I've never heard of them."
"You wouldn't have. It’s a paper company. But guess who registered the LLC three months ago?" Marcus slid a printout across the sticky table.
It was a business registration document. The registered agent was Ryan Vance. The co-signer was Vanessa Carter.
"They paid a desperate drunk to murder my brother," I said, my voice shaking with a mixture of grief and pure, unadulterated rage. "They murdered him for the company. For the money."
"We have enough to tie them to the financial fraud, but the murder charge is trickier," Marcus said gravely. "We need Gary Thomas to talk. He’s currently locked up in the Kane County Jail, awaiting trial for vehicular manslaughter. I've got a contact inside who’s setting up an interview for us tomorrow morning."
"I'm coming with you," I said firmly.
"It’s dangerous, Emily."
"He killed my brother, Marcus. I'm not hiding anymore."
Suddenly, Marcus's phone buzzed. He picked it up, listened for three seconds, his face turning pale.
"When?" Marcus asked the caller, his voice tight. "Are you sure?"
He hung up and looked at me, the grim expression on his face telling me everything I didn't want to hear.
"What is it?" I asked, my heart freezing.
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"Gary Thomas was found dead in his cell twenty minutes ago," Marcus said quietly. "They're calling it an overdose. But we both know he didn't just happen to get a lethal dose of fentanyl inside a maximum-security holding cell."
They were cleaning up their loose ends. And I was next on the list.
