Chapter 19
The disappointment in the basement was palpable, a heavy fog that choked the air out of the room. I walked over to the wooden desk where Miller was examining the scattered documents.
"They left in a hurry," Miller muttered, using a gloved hand to sift through the papers. "Look at this. Ledgers. Medical records. It's the exact same filing system Clara used."
I leaned closer, scanning the documents. My eyes caught a signature at the bottom of a fake birth certificate. It wasn't Clara's handwriting. It was sharp, jagged, and aggressive. The name printed beneath the signature was Arthur Vance.
"Who is Arthur Vance?" I asked, looking up at Miller.
"He was Clara's defense attorney during the initial trial," Miller said, his face paling as the realization set in. "He represented her, had full access to her files, her methods, and her entire network. When she went to prison, he didn't just walk away. He inherited her operation."
"He's a lawyer," I said, anger burning hot in my chest. "He knows exactly how the system works. He knows how to avoid detection, how to forge legal documents, and how to stay one step ahead of a warrant."
"Which explains why the kids were moved," Miller slammed his fist against the desk. "He has contacts in the courthouse. The moment the judge signed the warrant for this address, somebody tipped him off."
I looked back at the empty cages. "If he knows we're onto him, he's going to go into hiding. He'll take the children and vanish across state lines. We don't have days to build a new case, Miller. We have hours."
May you like
"I'm putting out an APB on Arthur Vance's vehicle," Miller said, pulling out his radio. "I'm freezing his bank accounts, tagging his passport, and locking down every airport and train station in a three-hundred-mile radius. He is not getting out of Colorado with those kids."
I grabbed my medical bag and headed for the ladder. The fight wasn't over. It had just escalated.
