Chapter 6 - THE LIGHTHOUSE ENCOUNTERThe wind off Lake Erie was biting, carrying the sharp scent of salt and decaying kelp. The old stone lighthouse stood like a lonely sentinel against the gray, churning waters.
A sleek black unmarked Ford Explorer pulled up beside the gravel turnaround, and a tall man in a weathered trench coat stepped out. Detective Thomas Vance looked exactly like his brother Harrison—same sharp jaw and piercing hazel eyes—but there was an unmistakable aura of raw integrity about him.
Caled and I stepped out from the lee of the lighthouse wall.
Vance’s hand instinctively hovered near his service weapon before he recognized us. He walked over, his eyes scanning our faces.
"Clara Sterling?" he asked, looking down at me.
"The same," I said, handing him a waterproof folder containing the thumb drive with all of Caleb’s digital evidence and the printed photographs of the Cayman Islands documents.
Vance opened the folder, pulling out the papers. His eyes scanned the corporate letterheads, the wire transfers, and the names of the co-conspirators. As he reached the page detailing the life insurance policies and Dr. Harrison Vance’s medical prescriptions, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.
"My brother Harrison signed off on this?" Vance whispered, his voice laced with profound disgust and betrayal. "That bastard."
"He’s part of Julian’s inner circle," I said. "They planned to stage a medical emergency this coming Sunday during our anniversary dinner. A paralytic injection disguised as a sudden stroke or aneurysm."
Vance looked up from the documents, his eyes locking onto mine with grim respect. "You have ice in your veins, Mrs. Sterling. Most people would have packed a bag and run."
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"Running doesn't solve anything," I replied coldly. "Julian stole my father’s legacy, and he tried to take my life. I want him dismantled completely—legally, financially, and publicly."
Vance slid the documents back into the folder and nodded slowly. "Here is what we are going to do..."
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