Chapter 4 - The Digital GhostWithin twenty-four hours of Vance and Arthur’s visit, the farmhouse turned into a command center.
We hadn't just relied on local legal channels; we had invoked federal investigator Marcus Vance. By Tuesday evening, Marcus arrived at our door—a tall, sharp-eyed man in his late forties with a graying crew cut and a quiet, tactical demeanor that immediately put the girls at ease.
He sat at our kitchen table, spreading out printouts of bank transfers, offshore accounts, and coroner's preliminary toxicology notes that Rose had secretly managed to preserve through a trusted independent medical examiner in Charleston.
"Your daughter was brilliant, Mr. Harrison," Marcus said, scrolling through a digital tablet synced with the voice recorder files. "She didn't just suspect him; she built an airtight RICO case against Arthur and his business associates. The embezzlement from Sterling & Thorne alone carries a twenty-year federal sentence. Add premeditated administration of toxic substances... Arthur won't just miss his wedding. He’ll be spending the rest of his natural life behind bars."
Lucy leaned against the back of Marcus’s chair, watching the financial charts scroll past. "And Victoria?"
"Victoria Vance is the primary beneficiary of the shell companies," Marcus replied, looking at Lucy with genuine respect. "Her family’s shipping empire relies heavily on federal government contracts. If it comes to light that she knowingly laundered embezzled funds and conspired with a man who murdered his wife to inherit estate assets, the Vance family stock will plummet by fifty percent before the weekend. They’ll drop Arthur faster than a hot stone to protect their brand."
"Good," Rachel said quietly from the corner, where she was helping April color a picture of a bird. "He deserves to lose everything. Just like he tried to do to us."
The plan was as bold as it was dangerous. We couldn't arrest Arthur before the wedding without tipping off District Attorney Vance, who would simply use his political immunity to stall the warrants until Arthur and Victoria fled the country on a private jet.
The takedown had to happen live. In front of everyone. At the exact moment Arthur stood at the altar, preparing to exchange vows.
"St. Jude’s Cathedral is a fortress," I warned Marcus. "Private security, guest lists, metal detectors at the doors for high-profile attendees."
May you like
Marcus smiled faintly, pulling a small, sleek flash drive from his pocket and placing it beside the red-wax-sealed envelope.
"That’s why we aren't going through the front doors," Marcus said. "We're going through the sound system."
