Chapter 7 - THE PRISONER'S GAMBIT
The visitor partition at the Green Haven Maximum Security Facility was separated by four inches of reinforced, bullet-resistant acoustic glass. Sitting on the other side in a faded orange jumpsuit, with hollow cheekbones and bruised knuckles from prison laundry detail, was Julian Vance.
When he saw me sit down in my charcoal blazer, his bloodshot eyes flashed with a pathetic mixture of desperate longing and poisonous rage. He snatched the heavy black plastic receiver off the metal wall hook with trembling, calloused fingers.
"Did Sterling find you?" Julian whispered frantically against the perforated speaker grill. "Tell me Uncle Sterling came to see you, Sarah!"
"Your uncle is trying to seize the girls' home with a sixty-million-dollar fraudulent Swiss lien," I said calmly, holding the phone to my ear without shifting my posture. "Did you honestly think he came back to America to bail you out of your eight-year sentence, Julian?"
Julian let out a dry, cracked laugh that ended in a violent coughing fit. He pressed his face against the scratched glass, his breath fogging the transparent barrier between us.
"Sterling doesn't care about me or Beatrice, you arrogant fool!" Julian hissed, his yellowed teeth bared in a desperate sneer. "Sterling wants Arthur's real vault—the biometric safe buried underneath the wine cellar in the east basement wing!"
"Arthur's vault was cleared out during probate thirty years ago," I replied evenly, studying the frantic pulse jumping in Julian's throat. "There is nothing down there except empty wine racks and old heating pipes."
"That's what Beatrice thought because Arthur gave her fake keys!" Julian gasped, looking over his shoulder at the corrections officers patrolling the catwalk above. "Inside that sub-basement vault is the original master shareholder ledger for Vance Maritime Global, worth four hundred million dollars in bearer bonds!"
"And what did Sterling promise you in exchange for the vault's access codes?" I asked, watching the coward squirm in his metal stool. "A pardon? A private jet to South America? A fake passport?"
"He promised me my daughters!" Julian yelled, slamming his cuffed hands against the partition so hard the metal bolts groaned. "He promised that once he takes the estate, he will file for sole custodial guardianship of Maya and Chloe, and you will die in a homeless shelter!"
Two guards immediately stepped behind Julian, forcing his shoulders down against the stainless-steel table while alarms chimed overhead. I didn't flinch as the violent commotion unfolded inches from my face.
May you like
"You gave up the right to speak their names the second you watched your mother smash Maya's birthday cake on the floor," I whispered into the receiver. "Enjoy your laundry shifts, Julian; your uncle is walking straight into the same trap you fell into."
I hung up the phone and walked out into the cold prison courtyard, pulling out my encrypted satellite phone to dial my corporate forensic team. "Carter, bring the ground-penetrating radar units to the east cellar tonight; we're going to find out what Arthur Vance buried thirty years ago."
