Chapter 10 - Dawn Over the Pacific
The first pale streaks of sunrise were beginning to bleed across the jagged eastern horizon, painting the jagged peaks of the Baja peninsula in brilliant shades of amber, rose, and gold.
On the dock of the private Ensenada marina, the flashing red and blue lights of federal police cruisers bounced off the wet concrete.
I stood on the quarterdeck of the Azure Horizon, leaning against the chrome railing where Lucas had tried to end my life less than twelve hours earlier. Down below, federal officers led Roderick, Gertrude, and Lucas away in heavy steel handcuffs, their heads bowed low beneath the harsh glare of the media spotlights that had already materialized along the pier.
My phone buzzed in the pocket of my dry jacket.
I pulled it out and tapped the screen. A secure video call from my father popped up instantly.
The face of Richard Vance filled the display, looking older, tireder, but fiercely, unshakeably alive.
“Are they secure, Claire?” my father asked, his voice thick with emotion.
“They’re locked down, Dad,” I replied softly, watching the police transport vans pull away from the dock toward the federal holding facility. “The corporate accounts are frozen, the power of attorney has been legally revoked, and their offshore shell companies have been seized by federal auditors.”
Richard let out a long, shuddering breath of relief. “Thank God. Marcus told me how you handled it. You didn't just survive, honey. You dismantled them.”
“I learned from the best,” I said, looking out past the marina toward the vast, endless expanse of the Pacific Ocean, where the water stretched flat and calm beneath the morning sun.
“When are you coming home to San Diego?” Richard asked.
May you like
I smiled, feeling the heavy weight of the past three days finally lift from my shoulders, replaced by an absolute, unbreakable clarity.
“Not yet, Dad,” I said, turning my gaze toward the northern horizon where the rugged mountain passes of Utah waited. “There’s still one more loose end to tie up.”
