Chapter 8 - The Shadow Counsel
Emily stared at the screen, her brow furrowing as she connected the final piece of the network.
"Arthur Vance..." Emily muttered, her mind tracing the history of her family’s financial advisors. "He was Dad’s corporate attorney for twenty years. He was the only person outside the family who had master access to the trust keys and the military death verification protocols."
"He engineered the whole thing, Colonel," Captain Vance explained, his voice low and professional. "Three months ago, Arthur Vance filed a classified combat death notification through a hacked military probate portal. He authenticated your death certificate using forged command codes, cleared the state title on this lake house, and initiated the wire transfer protocol for the five-million-dollar trust payout."
"Where is Vance now?" Emily demanded, her blue eyes flashing with white-hot intensity.
"According to the real-time cell tower ping we just locked onto," Captain Vance replied, pointing out the glass window toward the lake, "Mr. Vance is currently sitting aboard a private forty-foot yacht moored at the private marina three miles north of this dock, waiting for Ryan to send the final confirmation code from this party before fleeing the country."
Emily turned her gaze toward the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Outside, the calm blue waters of Lake Sunapee stretched out toward the northern tree line under the bright afternoon sun.
A cold, lethal smile spread across Emily’s face.
"He’s waiting for a confirmation code?" Emily asked softly.
She turned around, looking down at Ryan, who was pinned against the wall by two Military Police officers, his face covered in blood, his dark eyes wide with terror as he listened to the conversation.
Emily walked smoothly over to Ryan, reaching into his front polo pocket and pulling out his personal encrypted smartphone. She held the phone in front of Ryan’s face, using his facial recognition to instantly unlock the device.
She tapped the screen, opening his recent messaging app.
At the very top of the chat history was an unread text message from an unlisted contact:
Is the Colonel’s estate cleared? Send the confirmation key so I can execute the final five-million-dollar wire sweep and launch the boat.
Emily looked at Ryan’s swelling, bloody face.
"You were going to split the five million with him, weren't you?" Emily asked.
Ryan let out a choked, gurgling wheeze, dropping his head down, unable to meet her eyes.
Emily didn't wait for an answer. She tapped out a reply on Ryan’s phone using three simple words:
May you like
Property cleared. Come.
She pressed send.
