Chapter 5 - The Blueprints
I drove back to David’s house in a fugue state. My wife wasn't a victim. She was a monster. A criminal who had traumatized our son just to fake her own death and escape with cartel millions.
When I walked into David’s kitchen, he was sitting at the island, staring at a burner phone in a plastic bag.
"I found it stitched into the lining of Ethan’s backpack," David said, sliding it across the counter. "One text message. Received at 1:15 AM."
I looked at the screen. IF YOU WANT THE BOY TO STAY SAFE, DO NOT LOOK FOR ME. THEY ARE WATCHING.
"It's a threat," I said.
"It's worse," David replied. "I ran the plates on a black SUV idling at the end of my street. Fake tags. Evelyn was wrong, Marcus. The cartel didn't fall for the blood in the house. They know she ran. And they think we know where she is."
I looked at my hands. They were trembling. Not with fear anymore. With absolute, unadulterated rage.
"Marc," David said, tossing me a file folder. "Ramirez slipped this to me. It's Victoria's financial records. The shell companies she used to hide the money."
I opened the folder. As I scanned the LLC names, a cold realization washed over me. Apex Developments. Summit Horizons. Azure Architectural.
"David," I said, pointing at the pages. "These aren't just random shell companies. These are the names of the commercial properties I designed for her clients over the last two years. She used my architectural firm to bury the assets."
I ran to my truck and hauled in my massive leather portfolio. I unrolled the blueprints for a private, luxury hangar out at the Wendover Airfield—a project Victoria had insisted I take on for a 'special VIP'.
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"I designed a subterranean vault for this hangar," I said, tracing the blue lines. "Climate-controlled. Titanium reinforced. I thought it was for a classic car collection."
"She's not running across the border," David realized, grabbing his jacket and his issued Glock. "She’s going to the airfield. She's going to get the rest of her cash."
