Chapter 6: The Ghost in the Ledger
Marcus stared at the bank statement, the ink blurring slightly under the harsh light of the living room lamp. David. The name alone felt like a physical blow, dragging up memories of a bitter family schism, a burning wreckage on a dark highway, and a closed-casket funeral that Marcus had mourned for a decade.
"That’s impossible," Marcus whispered, his breath catching in his throat. "David died in nineteen-ninety-eight. I identified the body myself."
Officer Miller crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "That’s what the police report said, Mr. Vance. But look at the signature authorizing these transfers. It was signed four days ago. And the biometric stamp on the electronic transfer matches a living resident currently residing in Seattle."
Helen dropped her teacup. It hit the thick wool rug with a dull thud, the amber liquid staining the fabric in a spreading crescent. She stared at Marcus with wide, terrified eyes, her lips trembling so violently she could barely form the words.
"He... he’s alive?" Helen choked out, her hands clawing desperately at the wool blanket. "My boy... my David is alive?"
Marcus didn't answer. He turned his back to his mother, staring out the dark living room window at the rain-slicked driveway where Clara had just been hauled away. The pieces of a horrifying puzzle began snapping together in his mind with terrifying clarity. Clara hadn't just been stealing the estate out of greed; she had been acting as an intermediary for someone else. Someone who knew every dark secret of the Vance family, and someone who wanted the house—and everything buried beneath it—destroyed.
"Officer Miller," Marcus said, his voice dangerously calm. "Where was this transfer executed from?"
"An IP address downtown," the officer replied, pulling a notepad from his pocket. "Right across the street from the county courthouse, inside a private law office owned by Arthur Pendelton—your father’s former legal counsel."
Marcus closed his eyes. Arthur Pendelton had retired five years ago, claiming dementia. But if David was alive, and Pendelton was still operating in the shadows, then the nightmare they thought ended with Clara’s arrest was only just beginning.
"We need to go," Marcus said, turning sharply toward the coat rack.
"Go where, Mr. Vance? It's midnight," Officer Miller protested.
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"To Pendelton’s office," Marcus snapped, grabbing his heavy raincoat from the hook. "Before whoever is funding Clara realizes we found the ledger and cleans out the safe."
Before Marcus could reach the front door, the power throughout the entire house flickered violently and died, plunging the living room into pitch-black darkness, save for the flickering orange glow of the distant streetlights.
