Chapter 7 - The Paper Trail
The police investigation moved with terrifying speed over the next forty-eight hours.
Because the evidence I uncovered involved cross-state wire fraud, the FBI’s financial crimes unit joined the local homicide detectives. The estate storage room—where I had been locked away—was declared an official crime scene.
I sat in the office of Detective Miller at the central police precinct, wrapped in a blanket, holding a warm styrofoam cup of coffee. Marcus sat beside me, while a corporate forensic accountant named Sarah Vance (no relation) laid out a thick binder of financial trails.
"Miss Vance," Detective Miller said, leaning over his desk. "What you found in that filing cabinet was the key we needed to unseal Diane Sterling’s offshore accounts."
"Did she take everything?" I asked softly.
Sarah passed a spreadsheet across the table. "Your mother’s original real estate holdings were worth roughly four million dollars at the time of her death in 1998. Diane used her forged legal guardianship to funnel those assets into a shell corporation registered in the Cayman Islands."
"And the total today?" Marcus asked.
"With real estate appreciation and stock market investments," Sarah revealed, "the trust is currently valued at twenty-two million dollars."
I stared at the numbers on the paper. Twenty-two million dollars—a fortune built on my mother’s blood, while my sister and I grew up believing we had to rely on Diane’s charity for our college tuition.
"We also located the retired mechanic from the surveillance photo," Detective Miller added, his jaw tightening. "He’s seventy-two now, living in Florida. When federal agents knocked on his door yesterday morning, he confessed immediately. He admitted Diane paid him fifty thousand dollars in cash in 1998 to loosen the brake line fittings on your mother’s station wagon."
Tears finally welled up in my eyes, spilling over my cheeks. For twenty-six years, I had grown up thinking my mother had died in a tragic, senseless accident. Knowing that her death was a calculated execution brought a heavy, painful weight to my chest—but also an overwhelming sense of relief that the truth was finally out in the light.
"What happens to Diane now?" I asked, wiping my face.
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"She’s being held without bail," Miller said firmly. "Grand jury indictment for first-degree murder, kidnapping, grand larceny, and corporate fraud. She’s facing life in prison without the possibility of parole."
The door to the office opened, and a young officer peeked in. "Detective, there’s someone outside asking to see Miss Vance. It’s her sister."
