Chapter 7 - The Unwinding of the Ledger
The morning sun began to crest over the jagged peaks of the Sierra Nevada mountains, casting a cold, brilliant light across the empty Lake Tahoe driveway.
Deputy Miller stood by his cruiser, watching as Olivia slammed the door of the SUV—the very SUV I had purchased for her two years ago—and threw the transmission into reverse. The tires spun furiously against the gravel for a second before catching traction, spitting small stones across the manicured lawn as they retreated down Vance Road.
My phone buzzed on my desk in San Diego. It was Ethan.
"Perimeter clear," Ethan reported smoothly. "The local unit confirmed they’ve documented the illegal entry and property occupation. Shall I release the smart-home locks back to standard administrative standby?"
"Not yet," I replied, leaning forward to examine a secondary monitor. "Keep the perimeter protocols active. And run that background check on the financial records Michael pulled from Dad's corporate filings last night. I want to know where he got the capital to pay off his creditors right before he tried to steal my villa."
"Already on it," Ethan said. "Give me ten minutes."
I closed my laptop and stood up, stretching my shoulders after a long night of sitting under the harsh fluorescent lights of the naval base. The coffee in my mug had gone entirely cold, but I didn't care. The first phase of the operation was complete, but I knew my father well enough to know he wouldn't accept defeat quietly. Arthur Vance was a man built on hollow pride and borrowed money, and when cornered, he always lashed out at the people he thought were weakest.
My desk phone rang, breaking the quiet hum of the office.
I picked it up, expecting Michael Vance or Ethan with an update. Instead, an unfamiliar, highly formal corporate voice spoke on the other end.
"Commander Mitchell? This is Marcus Vance representing the Placer County Commercial Land Registry. We have an urgent discrepancy regarding the primary tax lien on your Tahoe property."
My eyes narrowed. "What discrepancy?"
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"A secondary deed transfer was filed late last night," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a serious register. "Your father attempted to file a quitclaim deed transferring ownership of the villa to an LLC registered under Olivia's husband, David. And he attached your forged signature to the notary block."
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