Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
The tension in the foyer was thick enough to cut with a knife. Detectives Miller and the county lead investigator, Detective Vance (no relation to Richard), watched the exchange with narrowed eyes.
“Mr. Vance,” Detective Vance said, stepping forward with his badge displayed prominently. “I’m Detective Vance. Step away from Mr. Carver.”
Richard didn’t blink. He offered the detective a polite, unruffled smile. “Officer, I am a pillar of this community. I employ over four hundred people in this county, including our grieving friend here. I suggest you tread very carefully before you start entertaining the wild accusations of a traumatized widower.”
“We found blood in the master bedroom, Mr. Vance,” Detective Vance replied evenly. “We found a shattered phone with threatening texts regarding shipping manifests. And we have an eyewitness statement from a six-year-old child placing Derek Carver and Teresa Carver at the scene of a violent struggle.”
Derek, who had been brought out of the kitchen by a backup deputy, broke down entirely. He fell to his knees on the Persian rug, sobbing uncontrollably.
“I didn’t mean to kill her!” Derek blubbered, burying his face in his hands. “Richard said we just needed to scare her! He said if she handed over the flash drive with the port records, nobody would get hurt! But she fought back, she scratched my face... and then... then mother locked the door so she couldn't scream!”
Teresa screamed from the sofa, lunging toward her younger son. “Shut up, you fool! You absolute fool!”
Richard Vance’s polite mask finally shattered. His face hardened into granite. He turned his gaze toward Derek with such absolute contempt that the younger man recoiled as if struck by a physical blow.
“Pathetic,” Richard muttered.
He didn't run. He didn't try to deny it. He simply reached into his coat pocket—and for a fraction of a second, the room held its breath, expecting a weapon. Instead, Richard pulled out a silver gold-plated fountain pen and tossed it onto the entry table with a metallic clink.
“You think arresting me changes anything, Detective?” Richard asked, his voice ringing with chilling arrogance. “Every judge in this district, every prosecutor in the state capital, and half the city council are sitting in my pocket. You can lock me up tonight, and by noon tomorrow, I’ll be walking out through the front gates with a cup of coffee in my hand.”
“Not this time, Richard,” a new voice echoed from the doorway.
Everyone turned. Standing in the entrance, flanked by two federal agents in dark windbreakers, was a woman with sharp, intelligent eyes and an FBI insignia clipped to her lapel.
“Special Agent Sarah Lin, Federal Bureau of Investigation,” she announced, holding her credentials high. “Mr. Vance, you’ve been under federal surveillance for international contraband smuggling and racketeering for fourteen months. Your shipping logs at Bay 4 were decrypted this morning by your own compliance officer—who happened to turn state’s evidence two hours ago.”
Richard’s face drained of color. For the first time, the billionaire titan staggered backward, his eyes darting toward the open door where federal vehicles now blocked every exit on the street.
“Take him down,” Agent Lin commanded.
The two federal agents moved with lightning speed, pinning Richard Vance’s arms behind his back and snapping cold steel cuffs around his wrists. As they dragged him past the open casket, Richard cast one final, venomous look toward Alex.
May you like
“You ruined everything, Alex,” Richard spat. “You were my finest logistics manager. You could have owned half this state.”
“I’d rather starve,” Alex said quietly.
