Chapter 7 - The Hidden Accomplice
Marcus snapped out of his daze at the sound of the crash, jumping to his feet with sudden panic. He looked at Maya, then at Arthur, before bolting toward the open vestry door where the cathedral staff usually prepared for services.
"Stay back!" Marcus yelled over his shoulder, disappearing into the dim hallway.
Maya clutched the photograph Arthur had given her, her fingers trembling against the glossy paper. The man in the picture was not just a former employee; he was Marcus’s uncle—David Vance, the esteemed philanthropist and university professor whom Marcus had always praised as his greatest mentor.
"Arthur," Maya whispered, her voice tight with disbelief. "David is dead. He died in a climbing accident in Switzerland ten years ago."
"That's what they wanted everyone to believe," Arthur replied grimly, pulling out a certified death certificate that was stamped with a suspicious lack of coroner signatures. "Body was never recovered, Maya. Just an empty ski jacket left on a ridge, and a multi-million-dollar life insurance payout that was immediately funneled into Evelyn's primary accounts."
Before Arthur could finish explaining, a muffled struggle broke out in the vestry, followed by the sound of breaking glass and Marcus shouting in shock and pain.
Maya didn't hesitate. Gathering the heavy layers of her lace wedding gown in her hands, she ran down the center aisle, ignoring the remaining guests who were scrambling toward the exits. She pushed open the heavy wooden door of the vestry, stepping into the narrow, sunlit preparation room.
Marcus was pinned against the brick wall by an older man with graying hair and cold, calculating eyes—a man who looked remarkably like Marcus, bearing the exact same sharp jawline and piercing gaze.
"Uncle David?" Marcus choked out, struggling against the man's grip as a heavy metal pipe was pressed against his collarbone. "You're... you're supposed to be dead!"
David Vance sneered, his fingers tightening on the makeshift weapon while keeping his eyes locked on Maya as she entered the room.
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"Death is such a convenient administrative tool when you owe the IRS ten million dollars and need to disappear with your sister's stolen loot," David laughed darkly, his grip on Marcus tightening until the younger man gasped for air. "And you, little Maya... you just had to keep digging, didn't you?"
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