Chapter 11 - The Midnight Subpoena
Ricardo didn't yell when he stepped out of Room 414.
With a white bandage taped over his left eyebrow and his hospital gown open over his bruised chest, he looked like a man walking out of a shipwreck. He ignored the doctors, ignored the security guards, and walked straight up to his younger brother.
Adrian backed up a step, his back hitting the laminate counter of the nurses' station.
"Ric," Adrian stammered, his mind racing for an angle that no longer existed. "That audio is—it's AI-generated! Deepfakes, Ric! Look at who's holding the tablet! She's a corporate con artist!"
Ricardo didn't look at Adrian. He looked at the iPad screen in my hands, where the video was now replaying Celeste wearing white rubber gloves, cutting open the lining of my suitcase and sliding his dead wife’s sapphire necklace inside.
Celeste’s face went the color of chalk. Her hand flew up to her throat—where the empty skin reminded everyone that the police had already logged the necklace into evidence earlier that night.
"You used Clara's necklace," Ricardo whispered. His voice was so quiet it made the hairs on my arms stand up. "And you put Halcion in my glass while my daughter was locked in her bedroom."
"Ricardo, please," Celeste whimpered, tears spilling over her lashes as she reached for his hand. "Adrian made me do it! He told me he owed money to people in Cayman—he said if I didn't help him get power of attorney over the shipping accounts, they would ruin both of us!"
"Shut your mouth, Celeste!" Adrian snarled, lunging forward to grab her wrist, his mask of brotherly sophistication completely obliterated.
Two hospital security guards immediately slammed Adrian against the wall, pinning his arms behind his back while the head nurse picked up the red emergency phone to summon the Seattle Police officers stationed down in the ER triage bay.
"Wait," Celeste cried, turning wildly toward me and Mara as the elevator bells chimed at the end of the hall. "I'll testify! I'll tell you everything about the twelve-million-dollar escrow wire tomorrow! You can't stop it without Adrian’s token, because he already pre-authorized the release with the bank in Zurich for 9:00 AM Central European Time!"
I glanced at the clock on the hospital wall.
2:05 AM Seattle time.
Which meant it was already 11:05 AM in Zurich. And the Cayman correspondent bank opened at 8:00 AM Eastern—in less than three hours.
"He set an automated sweep," I said, looking directly at Ricardo. "If we don't freeze your corporate operating accounts at the board level before five o'clock this morning Seattle time, twelve million dollars of Vance Logistics capital leaves the country permanently—and the company defaults on its port bonds by Friday."
Ricardo knelt down on one knee first, opening his arms as Vianey ran across the hallway and buried her face against his chest. He held his daughter tightly with one arm, closing his eyes for three seconds as he breathed in the scent of her hair.
Then he opened his eyes and looked up at me over Vianey’s head.
"Elena," Ricardo said, his voice raw with shame and gratitude. "Will you come back to work for me?"
"Not as your nanny, Mr. Vance," I said softly, holding up the notebook of ledger entries I had pulled from my coat pocket. "Right now, you need a forensic auditor."
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Just as the police officers burst out of the stairwell and locked handcuffs onto Adrian’s wrists, Adrian twisted his head back toward us, a manic, terrifying grin splitting his face.
"Freeze the bank accounts all you want, Ric!" Adrian laughed as they dragged him toward the elevator. "The transport team from Zurich landed at Boeing Field an hour ago—and you have no idea who actually signed Vianey’s guardianship transfer three months ago!"
