Chapter 5 - The Glass Tower at Eight A.M.
At 7:45 a.m. the following morning, the sun rose over downtown Phoenix, burning through the morning haze until the glass facade of the Vance & Miller Financial Building on Willetta Street looked like a sheet of copper fire.
The top floor of the building housed the executive suites.
Chad Vance sat in his leather swivel chair behind a massive glass desk that overlooked the northern expanse of the city. He wore a fresh grey suit, a pink silk tie, and a gold Rolex watch he had purchased three weeks ago using a corporate draw account.
Brenda Miller stood beside him, pouring fresh espresso into two porcelain cups. Her face was pale, dark shadows visible under her makeup despite her efforts to cover them.
"Chad," Brenda said, her voice shaking slightly as she set the saucer down on the desk. "My sister said two men were at her house last night. They had federal badges, Chad. They took my backup laptop."
"Your sister is paranoid, Brenda," Chad said smoothly, taking a sip of the espresso. He leaned back in his chair, putting his polished oxfords up on the glass corner of his desk. "Arthur called me twenty minutes ago. Genevieve is currently being processed at Perryville. The county case is closed. The public record shows she was convicted on all counts."
"What about the house?" Brenda asked. "Did Evelyn's closing go through?"
"The money was wired into the holding account at midnight," Chad smiled, pulling a cigar from a humidor on his desk. "Two point four million dollars. As of six o'clock this morning, that money was moved into our new account in Nevis. By Friday, we're resigning from this firm, closing the Willetta office, and moving to the estate in Cabo."
The door to the outer executive lobby buzzed.
Chad frowned, setting his cigar down on a crystal ashtray. "Who is that? The office doesn't open until nine."
"Maybe it's the cleaning crew," Brenda said nervously.
"The cleaning crew comes at night," Chad muttered. He tapped the intercom button on his desk. "Yes?"
The speaker crackled. A quiet, firm voice spoke through the mesh:
"Mr. Vance. You have an urgent courier delivery from the Maricopa County Recorder's Office. It requires a physical signature."
Chad chuckled, looking up at Brenda. "See? Probably the deed confirmation for the townhouse."
He stood up, adjusting his pink tie, and walked out into the carpeted reception hall. Brenda followed two paces behind, clutching her leather notebook to her chest.
Chad clicked the electronic lock release on the double glass entrance doors.
The doors swung inward.
Standing in the reception lobby were not courier drivers.
Four men in dark blue jackets with yellow FBI letters across the back stepped into the room. Behind them were two uniformed United States Marshals and a tall, stooped man in a worn bailiff uniform.
Harold Foster.
Standing behind Harold was Genevieve Vance, wearing a tailored navy wool dress, her hair pinned neatly back, holding a black leather briefcase.
And standing beside her, leaning lightly on his ebony cane, was Christopher Lindqvist.
Chad stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes bulged as he looked from Genevieve to the four federal agents whose hands were resting on their holstered sidearms.
"What... what is this?" Chad stammered, stepping back until his hips hit the reception desk. "Genevieve? You... you're supposed to be in Perryville!"
Special Agent Marcus Ruiz stepped forward, pulling a folded white document from his jacket pocket.
"Chadwick Arthur Vance," Agent Ruiz announced, his voice carrying clearly through the high-ceilinged reception hall. "I have a warrant for your arrest issued by the United States District Court for the District of Arizona. You are charged with forty-two counts of wire fraud, twelve counts of federal bank fraud, six counts of obstruction of justice, and conspiracy to commit money laundering under Title 18 of the United States Code."
Brenda let out a high, strangled shriek, dropping her leather notebook onto the floor.
"This is a mistake!" Chad yelled, his face turning an unhealthy shade of purple. "My uncle is Arthur Vance! He's the Chief Deputy County Attorney! Call him right now!"
Agent Ruiz pulled a second sheet of paper from his folder.
"Arthur Vance was taken into custody at his home in Paradise Valley at 6:15 this morning," Ruiz said flatly. "He is currently being held at the Federal Transfer Center in Phoenix."
Chad’s knees buckled. He reached out to grab the edge of the reception desk, but his hand slipped on the slick mahogany surface.
"Genevieve..." Chad gasped, looking at me with wide, terrified eyes. "Genevieve, tell them! Tell them this was a corporate disagreement! We can fix this! We can settle the account!"
I walked slowly across the reception hall until I stood two feet from him.
I looked down at his tailored grey suit, his gold Rolex watch, his trembling hands. The same man who had laughed at me in the courthouse hallway nineteen hours ago. The same man who had threatened to take my son.
"I handed Harold a note in the courthouse hallway, Chad," I said, my voice quiet, smooth, completely steady. "Do you know what was written on that paper?"
Chad stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on a dry dock.
"It was the direct clearing key to the Lindqvist Offshore Holdings account," I whispered. "The account you thought was an empty corporate shell. The moment Harold made that call, my father's legal team activated the federal audit triggers that you spent seven years trying to bypass."
"You... you set me up..." Chad stammered.
May you like
"No, Chad," Christopher Lindqvist spoke from behind me, his cane tapping once against the tile floor. "You set yourself up the moment you placed your hand on my daughter's shoulder and thought she had no father to stand behind her."
Agent Ruiz pulled Chad's arms behind his back. The steel handcuffs clicked four times—sharp, metallic, final.
