Chapter 19 - The Voice from the Cell|
I left the greasy diner with a cold, terrifying knot of dread sitting heavy and sour in my stomach. I didn't drive straight back to the safety of the clinic. Instead, I drove directly to the sleek downtown office of Marcus Vance, the brilliant private investigator and attorney who had flawlessly helped me expose Daniel's fraud two years ago. He was of absolutely no relation to Julian Vance, which was a bizarre irony we both found mildly amusing under entirely different, less life-threatening circumstances.
Marcus listened intently to my detailed recounting of the tense meeting with Julian in complete silence, his brow deeply furrowed as he carefully reviewed the photocopy of the ledger page I had brought him.
"Elias Thorne," Marcus muttered darkly, typing the name into a highly secure, encrypted database on his office computer. "I've heard terrifying whispers over the years. Major cartel connections, mostly dealing in untraceable offshore shell companies and weapons trafficking. If he’s truly involved, Rachel, we are completely and utterly out of our depth. We need to go directly to the FBI right now."
"We can't go to the FBI yet, Marcus," I argued, pacing the length of his spacious office, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "We have absolutely no proof other than a fuzzy photocopy of a ledger and the unverified word of a former corporate auditor. If we involve the Feds without rock-solid evidence, Thorne will instantly know, and he might go after Sophie or Ethan just to force my hand."
Marcus sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I'll start digging deep into Julian Vance, make sure he actually is who he says he is. In the meantime, I’m putting a heavily armed private security detail on your house and on Sophie at her high school."
Before I could thank him, my cell phone buzzed loudly in my purse. I pulled it out, fully expecting a text from Clara at the clinic. Instead, the screen boldly displayed a notification from the automated federal prison phone system. An inmate at the Marion facility was requesting a collect call.
"It's Daniel," I whispered, staring at the glowing screen in absolute disbelief. He hadn't tried to call me in over eighteen months.
"Answer it immediately," Marcus instructed, quickly hitting the record button on a specialized device on his desk. "Put it on speaker."
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I accepted the federal charges with a trembling finger. "Hello?"
"Rachel, darling," Daniel's voice slithered maliciously through the phone, sounding just as arrogant, entitled, and cruel as the day I finally left him at Gate 42. "I hear you've been making some interesting new friends in the city. Tell me, has Elias formally introduced himself yet?"
