Chapter 32 - The Phantom Partner
By sunrise, the rain had cleared, leaving behind a heavy, clinging coastal fog that blanketed the harbor and muffled the sounds of the city. We didn't wait for an invitation. By 8:00 AM, Tessa and I were sitting across from Marcus Vance in his temporary office at the Department of Justice annex—a sparse, windowless room smelling of old carpet and burnt espresso.
Marcus slammed a thick compilation of historical land grants and corporate filings onto the metal desk between us.
“You’re telling me Meridian Trust wasn't the root?” Tessa asked, leaning forward, her eyes locked on the documents.
“I’m telling you Meridian Trust was the shiny object they wanted us to look at,” Marcus said, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. He looked like he hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. “When we dug into the 1994 restructuring of the Seattle Heritage Foundation—the very entity Richard and Vivian were accused of bleeding dry—we found a tier of silent partners that never appeared on the public incorporation papers.”
“Who?” I asked, my fingers tapping a steady rhythm against the edge of the desk.
“A holding entity registered in Delaware under the name Vanderbilt & Thorne Legacy Group,” Marcus said, sliding a certified corporate ledger across the table. “And look at who held the controlling voting shares before the Suttons took over in 2010. It wasn't Richard’s father. It was a man named Julian Vance.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Vance? As in...”
“No relation,” Marcus cut in quickly, though his jaw tightened. “At least, not by blood. But Julian Vance wasn't just a financier; he was the original architect of Seattle’s backroom municipal deals. When he died under mysterious circumstances in a boating accident off the San Juan Islands back in 2005, his entire estate vanished into probate limbo. Or so the court records claimed.”
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“Somebody kept pulling the strings,” Tessa said, her voice dropping an octave. “Somebody who watched Richard and Vivian take the fall because they wanted the Sutton syndicate out of the way for good—to consolidate power under a new banner.”
“And based on that note left at your house,” Marcus added grimly, “they know you’re the ones who exposed the initial crack in the dam. If they think you have copies of the original 1994 asset transfers, you aren't just witnesses anymore. You’re targets.”
