Chapter 6 - The Unraveling of Robert VanceTwo hours later, our house was locked down as a crime scene.
We were back at the police precinct, seated in a secure private office. Detective Miller sat across from us, a cup of fresh tea in her hands as she looked at David and me. Kayla sat between us, her hood pulled low, holding my hand so tightly her knuckles were white.
“Elena is in custody,” Miller told us softly. “She’s being charged with attempted kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, and felony endangerment of a minor, in addition to her involvement in Robert Vance’s conspiracy.”
“What about Robert Vance?” David asked, his voice raw. “If he’s as powerful as Steven said, he’ll post bail in an hour. He’ll come after us.”
Detective Miller allowed a cold, vicious smile to cross her face.
“Robert Vance isn't posting bail, Mr. Adams,” she said, sliding a tablet across the desk to us.
On the screen was a live news broadcast from the state capitol. The headline across the bottom of the screen read:
FINANCIAL TYCOON ROBERT VANCE ARRESTED IN MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR FEDERAL RACKETEERING AND HUMAN TRAFFICKING BUST.
“While you were dealing with Elena,” Miller explained, “the FBI executed search warrants on eight properties owned by Vance’s shell corporations. The audio recording your little daughter made was the missing piece of predicate evidence the prosecution needed to unseal a federal RICO indictment that’s been in the works for three years.”
Kayla gasped softly from under her hood. “Reese’s recording... did that?”
“Reese’s recording did far more than save you from tonight, Kayla,” Detective Miller said gently, looking at my oldest daughter. “It exposed an entire network. Steven Vance isn't going to a prep school or a college. He’s going to a state juvenile detention center until he turns eighteen, at which point he will be transferred to federal prison to serve a fifteen-year sentence for conspiracy and attempted assault.”
I leaned back in my chair, feeling a massive weight lift off my chest, but David still looked haunted.
“And my business?” David asked quietly. “My involvement?”
Miller looked at David with a solemn expression. “You took a loan from a bad man under duress, Mr. Adams. But because you turned over every bank statement immediately and agreed to testify as a prosecution witness against Vance’s shell company, the U.S. Attorney’s office has agreed to grant you full transactional immunity.”
David lowered his head and began to sob quietly—tears of sheer, unadulterated relief.
“It’s over,” I whispered, hugging David’s shoulder. “It’s finally over.”
“Not quite,” Detective Miller said, her face suddenly turning grave once more. She turned off the tablet screen and looked directly at me. “There is one detail we found in Steven’s bedroom that we haven't discussed yet, Mrs. Adams.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What detail?”
Miller pulled a clear evidence bag out of her desk drawer and laid it flat on the table.
Inside the bag was a small, golden charm bracelet.
May you like
I gasped. The world seemed to stop spinning.
It was my bracelet. The one I had lost four years ago—long before Steven and Kayla had ever met.
