Chapter 6 - THE SEARCH FOR RACHELWith Victor Thornhill escorted out of his own building in federal handcuffs—flashed live across every major news network in the country—the illusion of the invincible Thornhill dynasty shattered in a single afternoon.
Yet, for Alexander, the victory felt hollow.
Three days had passed since the federal raid, and there was still no sign of Rachel Morrison.
The two men in black coats who had ransacked the cabin had vanished without a trace, leaving behind no digital footprint, no toll-booth footage, and no ransom demands.
Alexander sat in the grand, cavernous library of the Thornhill estate outside Seattle. The massive stone fireplace cast a warm, flickering glow across the Persian rugs. Curled up asleep on the oversized leather sofa beside him were Sophia and Madison, exhausted from days of trauma, their small hands clutching the edges of the blankets Alexander had tucked around them.
The heavy oak doors of the library opened quietly.
Jennifer stepped inside, holding a thick manila folder. Her face was grim.
"We traced the financial wire transfers used by the two men who broke into the cabin," Jennifer reported quietly, not wanting to wake the girls. "The money didn't come from Victor’s personal accounts. It came from a subsidiary shell company managed by Marcus Vance."
Alexander looked up from the fireplace. "Where is Vance?"
"That’s the thing, sir. Vance disappeared the morning Victor was arrested. But my team managed to cross-reference his private cell phone pings with a disused maritime logistics warehouse owned by the corporation down on Pier 42."
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Alexander stood up immediately, carefully pulling his coat over his shoulders without disturbing the sleeping twins.
"Get a tactical team from the federal marshals," Alexander ordered, his voice cold as steel. "We’re going to Pier 42."
