Chapter 14 - The Estranged Uncle
Detective Thorne arrived at the diner twenty minutes later, flanked by a small army of heavily armed police cruisers. He wrapped a thick, warm tactical blanket around Evie’s shivering shoulders, his face a mask of absolute relief mixed with profound rage.
"We found Silas in the construction yard," Thorne reported softly, sitting beside her in the vinyl booth. "He’s alive, but he has three broken ribs and a shattered femur. He's currently chained to a hospital bed under heavy federal guard. You neutralized a cartel hitman with a bulldozer, Evie. I am entirely in awe of you."
"Is it over?" Evie asked, her voice trembling slightly as she wrapped her hands around a hot cup of tea the manager had provided. "Do I finally get my life back?"
"The immediate threat is over," Thorne promised, pulling out his notebook. "With Silas in custody, the Vanguard syndicate will cut their losses and retreat to the shadows. They won't risk a federal war over an eight-million-dollar debt when the primary target is already secure. But we have a major problem regarding your parents."
Evie looked up, the warmth of the tea doing nothing to chase the chill from her bones. "What kind of problem?"
"Your father’s expensive lawyers are spinning a brilliant narrative," Thorne sighed in frustration. "They are claiming Richard owed Vanguard money, but he never ordered a hit. They are arguing that Vanguard hired Silas independently to burn the house down as an intimidation tactic, and Richard was simply a terrified victim. Without a direct confession from Richard or Silas, convicting your parents of attempted murder is going to be incredibly difficult."
"He locked my door, Elias," Evie stated, her voice hardening. "I have the padlock."
"And his lawyers will claim Vanguard operatives planted it there," Thorne countered gently. "We need concrete, physical evidence linking Richard directly to the payment for the arson. We need the physical ledger."
Evie frowned. "What ledger?"
"Years ago, before your grandmother died, she suspected Richard was embezzling family funds to pay off his gambling debts," a deep, unfamiliar voice echoed from the diner entrance.
Evie and Thorne turned simultaneously. Standing in the doorway was a tall, imposing man in his late fifties. He wore a weathered leather jacket, and his face bore a striking, haunting resemblance to Richard Vance, though it was lined with exhaustion rather than arrogance.
May you like
"Uncle Arthur," Evie whispered, recognizing the man she hadn't seen in over a decade.
"Hello, Evelyn," Arthur said, walking toward the booth. "Your grandmother kept a shadow ledger of every dirty transaction your father ever made. And I know exactly where she hid it."
