Chapter 29
Within two hours, the weigh station was swarming with Iowa State Patrol cruisers and flashing blue lights. Marcus Vance was loaded into the back of an ambulance in handcuffs.
But for Ethan, the victory felt completely hollow.
He sat in the back of a police cruiser with Lauren and Noah, a foil blanket wrapped around them. His phone buzzed. It was Detective Harris, the lead investigator tracking the GPS coordinates of Melissa’s car.
“Mr. Miller,” Harris’s voice sounded grim over the static-heavy line. “We found your sister’s vehicle.”
Ethan leaned forward. “Where? Are they in custody?”
“No,” Harris sighed. “The car was abandoned at a truck stop off Interstate 80, just past the Illinois border. They switched vehicles. A witness saw two women matching their description get into a black, unmarked SUV with commercial plates. We lost the trail. The corporate shares and the legacy account access... if they transfer those funds to an offshore shell company tonight, the money is gone forever.”
Ethan closed his eyes, his forehead resting against the cold glass of the police car window. His house was a pile of smoking ash. His father’s life savings were gone. His sister had betrayed him.
Lauren placed her hand on his neck, her voice soft but incredibly fierce. “Ethan. Look at me.”
He turned his head.
“We are alive,” Lauren said, a single tear cutting through the soot on her cheek. “Noah is safe. They took the bricks, they took the money, and they took the legacy. But they didn’t get us. We won the only battle that mattered.”
Ethan looked at his wife, seeing the incredible, resilient strength that Patricia had tried so hard to break. He nodded, squeezing her hand. “You’re right. We’re safe.”
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But deep down, a dark, relentless voice in his head whispered that Patricia wouldn't stop at money. A narcissist stripped of her public dignity doesn't run away into the night to enjoy a quiet retirement.
She was reloading.
