Chapter 5 - The Shadow Network
|
The next morning, I used my one allowed phone call for the week. I didn't call a friend, and I certainly didn't call my family—Richard had poisoned them all against me anyway. I called Beatrice Vance.
Beatrice was a legendary corporate attorney. She was ruthless, brilliant, and fiercely loyal to my late father. She was also the only person who had believed my innocence from day one.
"Margaret," Beatrice's sharp voice came through the crackling prison line. "Tell me you have something. I've been hitting dead ends trying to trace Richard’s offshore accounts."
"I have something better," I said, leaning close to the plastic receiver, my eyes scanning the room for guards. "I have proof Savannah was never pregnant."
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Beatrice finally asked, her tone shifting from professional to predatory.
"I have the original intake record from Westbridge Clinic," I whispered. "But a piece of paper isn't enough, Beatrice. They’ll just say I forged it in here. Jasmine, the nurse who gave it to me, said Savannah fell down a set of stairs outside a downtown hotel while she was blackout drunk."
"Which hotel?"
"I don't know. But Beatrice, if she was outside a luxury hotel in downtown Chicago, there has to be footage. Valet cameras, dashcams, ATM security feeds. You need to find it."
"It’s been over a year, Margaret. Most security systems overwrite their data every thirty days."
"Then find someone who saved it. Find a private investigator, bribe a security guard, do whatever it takes. Tap into my father’s secret trust—the one Richard doesn't know about. Spare no expense."
"Consider it done," Beatrice said firmly. "How much longer do you have in there?"
"Six months until my parole hearing," I replied, looking out the narrow window at the barbed wire. "Have everything ready for the day I walk out. Let Richard build his glass castle as high as he wants. We’re going to shatter the foundation."
May you like
"Stay safe in there, kid," she said softly before the automated system cut the line.
I smiled. For the first time in two years, the air inside the prison didn't feel suffocating. It felt like the deep breath before a storm.
