Chapter 7 - The Morning After
By 7:45 a.m. on Wednesday, the Macon air was crisp, and the morning sun was just beginning to burn off the mist over Vineville Avenue. Instead of opening my salon station, I sat in the passenger seat of Patrice’s car parked directly across the street from Dale’s commercial roofing office on Industrial Parkway.
Patrice was reviewing a certified copy of the emergency injunction signed by Judge Holloway just twenty minutes prior.
“Once Miller serves this at the front desk,” Patrice said, tapping the folder against the steering wheel, “any attempt by Dale or Diane Vance to move funds out of the primary business accounts will result in immediate contempt of court and an automatic asset seizure.”
“And what about the Swiss transfer?” I asked, watching the glass doors of the office building.
“Miller’s contact in the federal banking division flagged the routing number last night,” Patrice replied. “Because the initial capital came from a domestic commercial account tied to ongoing legal proceedings, the transfer has been temporarily frozen pending verification of the executor’s credentials. In plain English, Dale’s four hundred thousand dollars is currently stuck in purgatory.”
At 8:15 a.m., Dale’s white Ford F-150 pulled into the parking lot. He didn't look like a man who was winning. His hair was slightly disheveled, his jacket unbuttoned, and he carried himself with the hurried, frantic energy of someone who had spent all night staring at computer screens and empty bank portals.
He slammed the truck door shut, marched toward the building entrance, and disappeared inside.
Ten minutes later, Miller walked out of the office building, sliding his sunglasses down his nose with a satisfied grin. He crossed the street and pulled open the passenger door of Patrice’s car.
“Served,” Miller said, tossing a signed acknowledgment copy onto the dashboard. “Dale turned completely white when he read the judge’s signature. He tried to claim the accounts were protected under a parent holding exemption, but I told him to take it up with Judge Holloway at the emergency hearing tomorrow morning.”
“How did he react when you mentioned the Swiss freeze?” I asked, leaning forward.
“That’s the best part,” Miller chuckled. “He didn't even know it was frozen yet. He thought the wire had gone through successfully. When I mentioned E. Scott Legacy LLC, he looked like he was going to throw up right there on the commercial linoleum.”
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I looked across the street toward the office windows, feeling a strange, hollow sort of peace. The man who had controlled my life, dictated our finances, and treated my labor as worthless for over two decades was finally experiencing what it felt like to have the ground pulled out from under his feet.
“Good,” I said quietly. “Now it’s time for him to answer some questions face-to-face.”
