Chapter 15 - The Colorado Connection-15
I leaned forward, placing my uninjured right hand flat on the cool steel table, mere inches from her bandaged wrists. "What board, Rachel? Your shell companies are frozen. Your private pilot is in federal custody, singing like a canary to avoid an accessory to attempted murder charge. Your fake identities have been flagged by Interpol. You have nothing left."
Rachel let out a soft, chilling chuckle that sent a shiver down my spine. "You think I did all of this alone? You think a single woman can navigate international banking protocols, forge flawless government credentials, and track down wealthy, isolated widowers across three different states without a network?"
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper that blurred the glass of the table.
"The Vanguard Group, Arthur. Why do you think I chose you? Out of all the lonely, rich executives in the Midwest? Do you really believe it was a coincidence that we met at that specific charity gala?"
My heart missed a beat. The memory of our first meeting flashed through my mind—the elegant ballroom, the champagne, the smooth introduction by a senior member of our corporate board.
"Marcus Vance," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a physical blow.
"Marcus Vance," Rachel smiled, her eyes flashing with a twisted triumph. "Your Chief Financial Officer. The man who sat right next to you in every single board meeting for the last five years. The man who helped you draft the security protocols for the European merger. He’s the one who gave me your home address, Arthur. He’s the one who gave me your first wife’s medical files so I could study her personality, her style, her voice... so I could become exactly what you were missing."
The room seemed to lose all its heat. Marcus Vance. He wasn't just my CFO; he was my closest friend at the company, the man who had delivered the eulogy at Sarah’s funeral, the man who had held my shoulder while I cried into my hands.
"Why?" I choked out, the betrayal cutting deeper than any physical wound Lauren had ever inflicted.
"Because Marcus has a gambling problem, darling. A multi-million-dollar addiction to offshore sports books controlled by syndicates in Eastern Europe," Rachel explained, her tone dripping with sadistic pleasure. "He was drowning in debt. He needed a way to extract eighty-five million dollars from the Vanguard Group reserve accounts without triggering an internal audit. He needed a scapegoat. A perfect, tragic, grief-stricken patsy who would be too distracted by a family crisis to notice the digital signatures being manipulated until it was far too late."
She tapped her bandaged fingers against the steel table.
"The plan was perfect. I was supposed to slowly break Grace down, keeping you entirely consumed by home stress and professional obligations. Then, during the peak of the merger execution, Grace would suffer a 'fatal accident' at home. You would be completely shattered, leaving Marcus total, unmonitored control over the escrow authorizations for forty-eight hours. By the time the dust settled, the money would be gone, you would look like an embezzler who cracked under the pressure of your daughter's death, and Marcus and I would split the payload."
"But you changed the script," I said, my voice trembling with a terrifying blend of horror and fury. "Last night... you didn't wait for Marcus to give the signal. You attacked Grace yourself."
"Because Marcus got greedy," Rachel hissed, her expression hardening into an ugly scowl. "He tried to cut me out. He tried to alter the Cayman routing codes yesterday afternoon behind my back. So I decided to force his hand. I brought Grace to the hospital myself, knowing it would trigger an immediate police response and panic him into executing the wire early. I didn't care about his schedule anymore. I wanted my cut, and I wanted out."
She leaned back, her chains rattling violently against the chair.
"So you see, Arthur... even if you keep me in this room, the snake is still sitting in your boardroom. Marcus Vance is currently finalizing the closing documents for the European merger at your corporate annex down the street. And the moment the clock strikes 6:00 p.m., he’s going to execute a secondary backup script that will wipe every digital server in your company, destroying the evidence of my involvement and leaving you holding the entire smoking gun."
May you like
I looked up at the one-way mirror, my face pale.
Inside the observation room, I saw Agent Vance already on her phone, her face tight with a sudden, violent urgency. She caught my gaze through the glass, gave me a sharp, determined nod, and vanished from the room, sprinted toward the communication deck.
