Chapter 13 - The Smoke Clears
Back in the command center of the Tahoe villa, the soft blue glow of multi-monitor displays illuminated the sleek mahogany desk where I sat reviewing Michael Vance’s latest data feed. Ethan stood by the window, watching heavy flakes of afternoon snow begin to drift lazily down through the tall pines outside.
“Vanguard Capital’s board just suspended Marcus Vance indefinitely,” Ethan reported, tapping a notification on his tablet. “Federal investigators have officially frozen all corporate assets associated with the Delaware shell network. Your brother’s brilliant financial lifeline has completely imploded within forty-eight hours.”
“It wasn't an accident that Marcus trusted David with those offshore channels,” I said, resting my chin on my knuckles. “Greed always looks for an easy mark. David thought he was the clever puppet master exploiting a family member’s death, but he was just a minor node in a much larger laundering network.”
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“And your father?” Ethan asked, turning away from the window. “He and Olivia are still holed up at that motel on Route 50. Word from the local sheriff’s department is that they can’t even afford their room for another night. Their credit cards have all been flagged and locked by the fraud bureau.”
I stood up, smoothing out my canvas jacket, and walked over to the coffee station to pour a fresh cup of black coffee. “Let them feel the weight of empty pockets. But don't let them drop off the grid completely. I want eyes on them every second. When desperate people run out of money, they make dangerous mistakes—and I want to be right there when they make their final error in judgment.”
