Chapter 4 - The Dubois Syndicate
The woman introduced herself as Vanessa Sterling, though anyone who read the regional business journals knew her better as the chief legal fixer for Arthur Dubois—a real estate mogul whose tentacles reached into every zoning board, municipal contract, and high-end retail development across three counties.
Vanessa walked through the shattered remains of store decorum as if she owned the building—which, judging by the way Isabelle Corbo immediately ran to her side like a whipped dog, she practically did.
“Chief Vance,” Vanessa repeated, offering a cold, non-committal smile. “I trust my associate Isabelle hasn't caused you too much trouble. It seems there was a regrettable misunderstanding regarding merchandise inventory.”
“A misunderstanding,” I repeated, letting out a dry, humorless laugh. “Your associate just tried to frame me for grand larceny, had officers assault an active police chief, and covered up an open-and-shut jewel heist to protect a Dubois family member.”
Vanessa didn't blink. She reached into her leather briefcase, pulled out a pristine, cream-colored manila folder, and slid it onto the glass counter between us.
“Mr. Dubois values discretion above all else,” Vanessa said smoothly. “The diamond bracelet has already been quietly returned to the display inventory by management. As far as the store logs are concerned, no theft occurred today. An administrative error by a junior employee.”
She tapped a red-lacquered fingernail against the folder.
“And as a gesture of civic goodwill, Mr. Dubois is prepared to ensure that the ongoing municipal review of the Brook Haven community center grant receives an immediate, unhindered sign-off from the county board. Full funding released by Monday morning.”
Marcus’s eyes lit up. The community center grant was his pet project—the very project he had staked his upcoming run for deputy commissioner on. I could see the wheels turning in his head, calculating the escape route.
“That sounds... entirely reasonable, Vanessa,” Marcus began, stepping forward. “We want to be cooperative partners with local enterprise—.”
“Shut up, Marcus,” I snapped without looking at him.
I kept my eyes locked on Vanessa Sterling. “You’re offering me a bribe disguised as a municipal grant in exchange for sweeping a felony cover-up under the rug.”
“I’m offering you pragmatism, Chief,” Vanessa corrected, her voice dropping an octave, losing its corporate polish and revealing the iron beneath. “Mr. Dubois doesn't like loose ends. And right now, you are a very large, very inconvenient loose end in a very expensive machine.”
“Tell Arthur Dubois that if he wants to talk to me, he can do it across a metal table in an interrogation room with his attorney present,” I said, stepping right up to the counter. “Because as of five minutes ago, my state police contacts received the dashcam footage, the witness statements, and the initial audit of the loss prevention servers.”
Vanessa’s polite smile finally cracked. A flicker of genuine venom crossed her eyes.
“You’re making a grave mistake, Chief,” she whispered. “You think you’re untouchable because of your shiny gold badge. But you have no idea how deep the foundations of this city go. You can’t arrest an earthquake.”
“Watch me,” I replied.
Before Vanessa could retort, the heavy glass doors burst open again—not with a polite slide, but with a violent crash as three state troopers in tactical windbreakers flooded the boutique, led by an imposing man with silver hair and captain's bars on his collar: State Inspector Thomas Vance.
My older brother.
Thomas scanned the room, his piercing eyes landing instantly on me, then on Marcus, and finally resting on Vanessa Sterling.
May you like
“Well,” Thomas’s deep voice boomed across the boutique. “Looks like I didn't need to take the scenic route after all. Who wants to explain why my sister is standing in a department store surrounded by corrupt cops and corporate fixers?”
---
