Chapter 16 - The Unfinished Thread
Three weeks passed like a blur of corporate restructuring and quiet, healing family dinners.
The federal investigations into Victor Thorne and Senator Erickson were airtight, sealing their fates behind federal prison walls with no possibility of parole. Hale Enterprises was streamlined, purged of the corrupt elements that had bled its margins for a decade, and transformed into a legitimate global logistics giant.
Yet, sitting in my private study on a rainy Tuesday evening, a single loose thread continued to itch at the back of my mind.
Arthur Vance—Clara’s husband—was supposed to have died in a plane crash five years ago. But when the federal cybersecurity team decrypted the entirety of Project Janus, they found no record of a body ever being recovered from the Alpine wreckage.
There was a knock on my study door.
"Enter," I said, not looking up from the glowing monitors.
The door creaked open, and Clara stepped inside, holding a cup of black coffee and a manila envelope stamped with a red, confidential seal.
"You're still working," she noted quietly, setting the coffee cup on the edge of my desk.
"I'm looking at Arthur's flight logs from five years ago," I said, spinning my monitor around so she could see the flight path. "The plane didn't crash because of mechanical failure, Clara. It was brought down by a remote override signal originating from a private airfield in Zurich. An airfield owned by a shell company controlled by a man named Alistair Vance."
Clara went rigid. The color drained from her face, her fingers gripping the edge of my desk until her knuckles turned white.
"Alistair..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "Arthur’s older brother."
"Your brother-in-law," I said, narrowing my eyes. "The man who inherited the family’s European banking empire after Arthur 'died'. If Arthur faked his crash to escape Victor's syndicate, why didn't he ever come back to you? Why stay hidden for five years while you and Amara lived in fear?"
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Clara slowly lowered herself into the leather chair opposite my desk, her eyes fixed on the manila envelope she had brought in.
"Because," Clara whispered, her voice cracking, "Alistair wasn't just protecting Arthur. Alistair was the one funding Victor’s operations from the European side. Arthur discovered that his own brother was laundering syndicate money through the family bank—and when Arthur tried to expose him, Alistair tried to kill him."
