Chapter 8 - The Cornered Rat
The victory was sweet, but the danger was not over.
With Councilman Vance and Arthur Pendelton arrested, the political machine they had built began to tear itself apart. But cornered rats are the most dangerous, and Vance’s associates in the municipal unions and the local crime syndicates were suddenly facing exposure.
Elena’s office had received three bomb threats in forty-eight hours.
Detective Shaw insisted that I stay at a safe house—a discreet, unmarked apartment owned by the state police in a quiet suburb outside the city.
I sat by the window, looking out at the rain-slicked street. The sky was a heavy, dull gray, matching the mood that had settled over me. The legal battle was won, but the physical reality of what they had done to my father, and to me, still lingered like a shadow.
My laptop was open on the small kitchen table, displaying the live financial tracking software I had set up to monitor the remaining assets of Sterling Construction.
Suddenly, a red alert flashed on the screen.
WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED
ACCOUNT: STERLING CONSTRUCTION - RESERVE TRUST (CHASE BANK)
AMOUNT: $1,200,000.00
STATUS: PENDING WIRE TRANSFER
My fingers flew over the keyboard.
Someone was trying to drain the company's emergency reserve account—an account that was supposed to be frozen by the federal receivership.
"How is this possible?" I muttered to myself.
I traced the IP address of the accessing device. It wasn't coming from New York. It was coming from a public Wi-Fi network at a marina in Newark, New Jersey.
I looked at the destination account. It was a private offshore bank in Cyprus.
And then, my phone buzzed with an incoming text message from an unknown number.
I’m taking what’s mine, Clara. If you try to stop the transfer, the safe house you're sitting in won't be safe anymore.
I stared at the screen.
It wasn't Arthur. It wasn't Vance.
It was Derek.
He had escaped.
I dialed Detective Shaw’s number immediately. "Shaw! Derek is out. He’s trying to drain the reserve account from a marina in Newark."
"What?" Shaw’s voice was distorted by static. "That's impossible. He was in county custody!"
"He’s not in custody anymore, Shaw!" I shouted, grabbing my coat. "Check the logs! He’s at the Newark Marina. He’s trying to board a boat to get out of the country, and he’s using the last of the company’s reserves to fund his escape!"
"Clara, stay where you are!" Shaw ordered. "I’m sending a patrol unit to your location. Do not leave the apartment!"
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But I couldn't just sit there. If Derek drained that account, the company’s remaining employees—the honest men and women who had worked for my father for decades—would lose their pensions and their severance.
I closed my laptop, grabbed my car keys, and ran out into the rain.
