Chapter 11 - The Jailhouse Gamble
I spent the next forty-eight hours in a cramped, freezing county holding cell. The local police were squarely in Arthur’s pocket, treating me like a violent vagrant. But I had expected this. I wasn't fighting a physical war anymore; I was fighting an information war.
On the third morning, the heavy iron door clattered open. A sharp-suited man with a briefcase stepped in. "Mr. Thorne. I'm Elias Vance. Rachel sent me."
Rachel. My sister-in-law had come through. Vance was a high-powered shark from New York, and he didn't look like he took prisoners.
"Get me out of here, Elias," I muttered, sitting up on the hard metal bench.
"Already done," Vance said, opening his briefcase. "The judge granted bail. More importantly, we got a federal warrant to audit your father's accounts based on the GPS data you recovered and Elena's confession. Turns out, your sister cracked the second the FBI put a microphone in front of her."
A wave of profound relief washed over me. "Elena talked?"
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"She sang like a canary," Vance smirked. "Arthur’s assets are frozen. The police are preparing to arrest him, David, and your mother for conspiracy to commit murder, fraud, and child endangerment. You won, Marcus."
I stood up, my battered body finally feeling light. But as I signed the release papers, a cold dread crept back into my spine. Men like Arthur Thorne didn't just surrender. If he knew the walls were closing in, he would do something desperate.
