Chapter 10
Officer Miller straightened up, her professional detachment instantly recalibrating to fit the escalating gravity of the situation. She rested her hands on her utility belt, looking from Beatrice to Julian with sharp, analytical eyes.
"If Arthur Vance is back on this property," Officer Miller said, her tone devoid of emotion, "then this is no longer just a missing persons investigation or a domestic dispute. This is a potential breach of a decades-old federal restraining order tied to the original embezzlement settlement."
Julian felt a hot surge of anger rise in his chest. For his entire life, his father had been a phantom—a shameful excuse used by Beatrice to explain away their emotional isolation, a ghost haunting the margins of his childhood memories. And now, while a winter storm raged outside, that ghost had apparently returned to reclaim whatever remnants of the estate remained.
"Where would he go?" Julian demanded, turning to face his mother directly. "If he’s been living nearby, or if he just came back today, where does he hide on this estate?"
Beatrice kept her eyes fixed on the cold stainless-steel counter, her lips pressed into a thin, white line. "The old boathouse down by the river," she whispered, the words barely audible over the hum of the servers. "It hasn't been used since the winter of ninety-four. The roof is partially collapsed, and the road leading down there washed out years ago."
Sarah stepped forward, her anxious expression hardening into resolve. "That’s where Clara was heading when she went back toward the guesthouse. The path to the boathouse connects directly behind the gardens."
Officer Miller unclipped a heavy tactical flashlight from her belt, testing its powerful beam with a sharp click that illuminated the damp stone walls of the mudroom. "I am going down to the boathouse," the officer stated firmly. "Mr. Vance, you will stay here with your wife. If Arthur Vance is down there, confronting him without backup in these weather conditions is a liability I cannot permit."
"That is my father," Julian said, his voice flat and unyielding. He reached over and picked up a heavy waterproof jacket hanging by the door, pulling it on over his grey sweater. "And this is my family’s history he’s digging up. I am coming with you."
Officer Miller studied Julian for a long moment, measuring his resolve, before giving a curt nod. "Stay behind me, and keep your hands visible at all times."
May you like
As the officer and Julian moved toward the rear exit, Sarah reached out and caught Julian’s sleeve. Her eyes were filled with a desperate, unspoken plea. "Be careful," she whispered.
Julian gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, feeling the lingering warmth of her skin before stepping out into the freezing, rain-swept night.
