Chapter 7 - The Industrial Port
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The Blue Anchor Diner sat on the edge of the industrial shipping docks, its neon sign flickering weakly against the heavy fog rolling off the bay.
I parked my car two blocks away behind a row of rusted shipping containers, pulled my hood over my head, and walked through the torrential rain to the diner's rear service entrance.
The back kitchen smelled of fried grease and stale coffee. Bernardet was sitting at a small laminate table in the corner, clutching a steaming mug with both hands. Her hair was damp, her eyes wide with exhaustion.
I slid into the booth across from her, dropping my bag beside my feet.
“They went to my hotel, Bernardet,” I whispered, leaning over the table. “Lachlan’s men were at my room within forty-five minutes of my departure.”
Bernardet’s face went pale. “Cordelia uses a private agency called Vance Protection Services. They’ve done dirty work for the Montgomerys for over a decade—intimidating creditors, silencing former employees, covering up Lachlan’s drunken hit-and-run three years ago.”
My eyes widened. “A hit-and-run?”
“It was swept under the rug,” Bernardet said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “They paid off the victim’s family using money from your grandmother’s trust fund allocation. The transfer was disguised as a land assessment fee.”
I felt an overwhelming wave of disgust. Every layer I peeled back revealed a deeper level of corruption.
“I need a forensic accountant and a ruthless lawyer,” I said, gripping my coffee cup. “Someone outside the Montgomerys' political reach.”
Bernardet reached into her coat pocket and slid a small, laminated business card across the table.
“This is Ethan Vance,” she said. “He’s a high-profile corporate prosecutor who has been trying to build a case against Montgomery Enterprises for three years. He’s also your second cousin on your father’s side—the one your family stopped talking to when he refused to take corporate bribes.”
I picked up the card. The name Ethan Vance, Attorney at Law was printed in bold, stark lettering.
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“Does he know about the drive?” I asked.
“No,” Bernardet replied. “I was too afraid to contact him on my own. But with you standing beside him as the primary witness and victim? He will tear the Montgomerys to pieces.”
