Chapter 6 - SHADOWS OF THE PAST
(1500 words)
Three weeks after the court hearing, the dust began to settle, but the silence felt heavier than the noise.
Juliette was held without bail at Rikers Island pending her criminal trial for attempted murder, arson, grand larceny, and corporate fraud. The story dominated global headlines, turning the Mercer name into a cautionary tale of greed and betrayal.
I moved into a quiet penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park—a property that had belonged to my mother before her passing. For the first time in four years, I wasn't wearing hospital gowns or hiding behind bandages. But looking in the mirror was still a battle.
The burns along my jawline and neck were permanent reminders of the night my sister chose money over my life.
A chime at the front door broke my thoughts. I opened it to find Marcus standing in the hallway, holding two takeout coffee cups and a thick manila folder.
“You’re up early,” I said, stepping aside to let him in.
“Habit of a disgraced detective,” Marcus smiled faintly, handing me a coffee. “Plus, I thought you’d want to see these. The forensic audit of Mercer Development was finalized last night.”
I sat down at the granite island in the kitchen, opening the folder. Page after page listed wire transfers, dummy corporations, and hidden offshore accounts.
“She stole over twelve million dollars before the fire,” I noted, skimming the numbers. “She was sinking, Marcus.”
“It’s worse than that,” Marcus said, pointing to a specific line item highlighted in yellow near the bottom of page fifteen. “Look at who was receiving the secondary transfers.”
I leaned closer, reading the name on the shell company: Vance Maritime Operations.
My eyes snapped up to Marcus. “Grant’s family?”
“Not Grant directly,” Marcus corrected. “His father, Richard Vance. The marriage between Grant and Juliette wasn't just a romance, Caroline. It was a financial bailout. Richard Vance was using Juliette’s stolen Mercer funds to cover up severe shipping losses in his European routes.”
A cold chill ran down my spine. “Grant knew?”
“Grant claims he was kept in the dark by his father,” Marcus replied. “But Richard Vance was the one who pulled strings to slow down the initial fire investigation four years ago. He used his influence on the police commission to make sure I was taken off the case when I started asking too many questions.”
I leaned back, taking a sip of the warm coffee. “So Juliette wasn't acting alone. She had a partner who wanted the Mercer assets just as badly as she did.”
“And now that Juliette is in jail, Richard Vance is panicking,” Marcus said. “He knows if she takes a plea deal, she’ll name him to cut her own sentence.”
Before I could respond, my phone began to ring on the counter. The caller ID displayed an unknown number.
I clicked speakerphone. “Hello?”
“Caroline.”
It was Grant Vance’s voice. He sounded frantic, breathless, as if he were running.
“Grant?” I said, glancing at Marcus, who immediately pulled out his recorder. “Why are you calling me?”
“You need to leave your apartment right now,” Grant stammered through the speaker. “My father… he found out about the secondary audit. He knows Marcus linked the money back to Vance Maritime.”
“Grant, what are you talking about?” I demanded.
“He sent someone to your building, Caroline!” Grant yelled over the sound of wind rushing past his phone. “He can't afford for you to testify at the corporate tribunal next week! Get out of there—”
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The line abruptly went dead with a sharp burst of static.
Marcus immediately stood up, unholstering his glock from his shoulder harness—a habit he had retained despite losing his badge. “Stay behind me, Caroline. We’re leaving through the service elevator.”
