Chapter 6 - The Uninvited Guest
The digital files revealed a rabbit hole that went deeper than David could have ever imagined.
He searched the public records of Delaware and Washington State, linking Apex Properties LLC to an address in downtown Seattle. The registered agent for the corporation was indeed Marcus Vance. Further searches revealed that Marcus’s death certificate was a sophisticated forgery, likely purchased on the dark web to allow him to escape massive debt and a pending fraud indictment in Oregon.
Rebecca had never divorced him. She had never been widowed. Her entire marriage to David was a sham, a long-con designed to gain access to David’s substantial income and his mother’s inheritance.
At 2:00 AM, David heard the soft creek of a floorboard in the hallway.
He quickly closed his laptop, slipped his phone into his pocket, and stepped into the shadows of his office closet, leaving the door cracked.
Through the gap, he watched the hallway light turn on. Rebecca walked past, dressed in her silk robe. She didn't go to his mother’s room, nor did she go downstairs. She went straight to the front door, unlocked it, and let someone in.
David crept to the banister of the stairs, looking down into the dim foyer.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a leather jacket stepped inside, shaking the rain from his dark hair. It was Marcus Vance. He looked exactly like the photos David had just uncovered on the web.
"Did you get the signature?" Marcus asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that matched the audio files perfectly.
"No," Rebecca whispered back, her voice tight with stress. "David came back early. He found her on the floor. He’s suspicious, Marcus. He’s been hovering over her room all night."
"You stupid bitch," Marcus hissed, grabbing her by the upper arm. "I told you to keep her hydrated enough to sign. If David calls the police or looks at the bank accounts, we’re finished."
"He won't look," Rebecca said, twisting out of his grip. "He trusts me. I’ll tell him her dementia is worsening, that she’s hallucinating the abuse. But we need to move fast. We need to get her out of this house and into a state facility where they won't let David visit easily."
"Do it tomorrow," Marcus said, pulling her close and kissing her on the lips. "I’ll have the transport van ready. We’ll tell him it’s an emergency medical evaluation."
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David stood in the darkness at the top of the stairs, his knuckles white as he gripped the wooden railing. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to run down the stairs and throttle Marcus with his bare hands. But he knew he couldn't. If he acted rashly, they would run, or worse, they would find a way to twist the situation before he could secure his mother’s safety.
He needed undeniable, airtight evidence. And he had forty-eight hours to get it.
