Chapter 4 - The Ghost in the Ledger
Julian Vance had been Dorian Ashford’s chief financial officer for eight years. He was the man who balanced the shipping manifests, managed the offshore accounts, and sat across the mahogany desk nodding respectfully during every board meeting.
He was also, as Marcus’s quick audit revealed, a thief who had been embezzling millions from the Ashford shipping conglomerate for over three years.
By Tuesday afternoon—less than forty-eight hours after Leo was pulled from the river—Julian Vance was sitting tied to a wooden chair in the damp, dimly lit basement beneath Dorian’s downtown shipping warehouse.
Audrey had insisted on coming. Dorian had tried to refuse, arguing that the underworld of New Orleans was no place for a pharmacy delivery girl. But Audrey had looked him dead in the eye and said, “That boy is alive because I pulled him out of the dark. I have a right to know who tried to put him there.”
Dorian had relented.
Now, standing in the shadows of the concrete basement, Audrey watched as Julian Vance struggled against thick nylon cords, his expensive silk suit wrinkled and stained with sweat.
Dorian walked slowly around the chair, his footsteps echoing off the concrete walls. He didn't carry a weapon. He didn't need one. His presence alone was enough to make Julian shake like a leaf.
“Eight years, Julian,” Dorian said, his voice deceptively calm. “I trusted you with my accounts. I invited you to my home. And you decided to steal from my ledgers.”
“Dorian—please!” Julian choked out, blood trickling from a split lip where one of Marcus’s guards had corrected his attitude earlier. “It was just numbers! Nobody was supposed to get hurt!”
Dorian stopped walking. He leaned down, bringing his face inches from Julian’s. “You put my son in a freezing river at midnight. You threatened an innocent woman who has raised three generations of my family. You call that numbers?”
“I didn't want to hurt the boy!” Julian cried, panicking as Dorian’s hand rested casually on the back of his chair. “I swear to God! But he found the ledger in my study at the house! He saw the offshore transfer codes! If he told you, I would have gone away for the rest of my life!”
“So you decided to murder an eight-year-old child,” Dorian whispered, the menace in his tone sending a shiver through Audrey’s spine.
“No! I planned to scare him! Just make him run off into the woods so it looked like he wandered away! I didn't know he would go toward the bridge!” Julian sobbed hysterically.
Audrey stepped out from the shadows into the harsh overhead light.
Julian stopped crying, his eyes widening in shock as he recognized her. “You... you’re the one who pulled him out.”
“I’m the one who ruined your plan,” Audrey said coldly, stepping right up to him. “And I’m the one who is going to watch you lose everything you stole.”
Dorian straightened up, looking at Audrey with a mixture of respect and dark admiration. He turned to Marcus, who stood near the heavy steel exit door.
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“Call the federal prosecutor,” Dorian instructed quietly. “Hand over the financial records, the confession, and the security logs. Make sure Julian spends every remaining day of his life in a maximum-security cell where the only water he sees comes out of a tin cup.”
Julian began to scream as Marcus hauled him out of the chair, but Dorian didn't even look back as he walked toward the exit, motioning for Audrey to follow.
