Chapter 14 - The Phantom At The Flames
Clara stared at the live security feed on her phone screen, her breath hitching in her throat. The man standing on the burning patio wasn’t a ghost, and he certainly wasn't in a federal holding cell. It was Richard Vance, impeccably dressed in his charcoal suit, watching the flames consume the family home without a shred of hesitation.
“How is he out?” Clara demanded, turning frantically toward Helen and Martha. “He was just arrested an hour ago!”
Helen’s face hardened into a mask of pure fury.
“Bail bondsmen,” Helen said through clenched teeth. “Richard spent thirty years skimming corporate funds into unlisted offshore accounts. He had millions stashed away specifically for an emergency exit strategy.”
Martha grabbed her jacket, her hands shaking.
“We have to get back to the house immediately. If he burns the property to the ground, every single piece of physical evidence left in the master bedroom vault will be destroyed forever.”
Clara didn’t hesitate. She turned on her heel and sprinted toward the freight elevator, her white sleeveless top fluttering behind her as the layered gold necklaces clinked against her collarbone. Helen and Martha followed closely behind her, plunging back into the descent as the city outside began to wake to the morning news broadcast of Vance Global’s sudden collapse.
As Clara’s car tore out of the subterranean parking garage and sped down the highway toward her burning estate, her phone buzzed again. It wasn’t a security alert this time. It was a direct incoming video call from an unknown number.
Clara swiped the screen with a trembling thumb, hitting accept on the dashboard display.
Richard’s face appeared on the digital screen, framed by the roaring backdrop of the burning patio. He looked completely unbothered, sipping a cup of coffee as if he were watching a morning sunrise.
“Did you really think a pair of handcuffs could stop me, my dear?” Richard’s voice echoed smoothly through the car’s audio system. “You played a very dangerous game last night, Clara. But you forgot one crucial detail.”
Clara gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.
“What are you talking about, Richard? You’ve lost everything!”
Richard smiled warmly, a chilling expression that didn’t reach his cold eyes.
“I haven’t lost a thing, Clara. Because right before I burned the house down, I opened the basement storm shelter. And I locked someone very important inside.”
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On the screen, Richard slowly turned the camera around to reveal a heavy steel basement door, deadbolted from the outside, with thick black smoke beginning to curl out from beneath the frame.
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