Chapter 6 - The Ghost from the Past
The name printed in crisp black ink at the top of Detective Miller’s warrant seemed to suck all the oxygen right out of the dining room. Elena leaned heavily against the back of her chair, her eyes darting between the paper and her husband’s terrified face.
"Arthur?" Elena whispered, the name sounding foreign and heavy on her lips. "Your father... Arthur Vance? But he passed away five years ago. We buried him in the churchyard."
Detective Miller tucked his hands into his belt, his tired eyes scanning the stunned expressions of the family. "That's what the death certificate said, Mrs. Vance. But the federal registry begs to differ. Our forensic team ran biometric scans on the passport used to open Sarah Jenkins's offshore accounts last month. The digital signature matches a man who supposedly died of a heart attack in 2019."
David slumped against the wall beside the archway, his hands covering his face as he let out a ragged, defeated breath. "He isn't dead," David muttered through his fingers. "He never was. He faked his own death to escape the federal indictments coming down for corporate tax evasion. He made me help him, or he threatened to ruin all of you."
Clara Vance slammed her hand against the mahogany table, the loud bang making toddler Lily burst into full-blown tears in her red dress.
"Shut your lying mouth, David!" Clara shrieked, her facade of cold composure finally shattering entirely. Her face flushed a deep, angry crimson that matched her blouse. "Your father was an honorable man! He would never run away like a coward!"
"He was a monster, Mom!" Marcus yelled back, stepping up to the table to tower over his mother. "He bled this company dry and left the rest of us to clean up his mess! You knew, didn't you? You knew he was alive all this time!"
Maya didn't participate in the shouting match. Her eyes remained locked on the open doorway behind Detective Miller. She noticed a faint shadow moving against the hallway wallpaper—a silhouette that didn't belong to any of the police officers standing outside.
"Detective Miller," Maya said calmly, raising her voice just enough to cut through the family's shouting. "How many officers came into this house with you?"
Detective Miller frowned, turning his head slightly toward the foyer. "Three. Why?"
"Because there's a fourth person standing in your hallway," Maya replied, her voice dropping to an icy whisper.
The room instantly fell dead silent. Even Lily's crying tapered off into nervous sniffles. Detective Miller unclipped his radio with one hand and placed his other hand firmly on the grip of his service weapon, spinning around to face the dark archway.
"Step into the light with your hands where I can see them!" Detective Miller commanded, raising his voice to a booming authority.
Slowly, the shadow detached itself from the wallpaper. A tall, elderly man with a shock of white hair and a deeply lined face stepped into the dining room light. He was wearing an expensive wool coat, and despite his advanced age, his posture was unnervingly upright and commanding.
Clara gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she stared at the man in utter disbelief.
"Arthur?" Clara choked out, the color draining completely from her face.
The man offered a thin, chilling smile, his dark eyes sweeping over his stunned family before fixing squarely on Maya.
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"Good evening, detective," Arthur Vance said smoothly, his voice remarkably steady for a ghost. "I believe you've been looking for me."
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