Chapter 4 - BLOOD MONEY AND BADGESZ
The rain beat relentlessly against the windowpanes of the small diner on the outskirts of town. Claire sat in a corner booth, staring into a mug of black coffee she hadn't touched. Across from her sat Detective Laura Bennett, looking exhausted, a thick manila folder open on the table between them.
“We found the vehicle,” Bennett said, turning a photograph toward Claire. It showed Richard’s luxury sedan parked in an abandoned gravel lot near the state border. “Wiped completely clean. No fingerprints, no personal items, no phone. He had a secondary vehicle waiting for him. This was planned, Claire. Carefully planned.”
“He has safe houses,” Claire said, her voice hollow. “Three years ago, Pierce Logistics bought several residential properties under shell companies across the state line. Daniel told me about them once. Richard called them 'asset diversification.'”
Bennett made a note in her pad. “Can you give me the addresses?”
“Daniel has the files in his office at home,” Claire said. “But he won't give them to you. He’s terrified of his father. His sister and their corporate lawyers are pressuring him to accept a settlement.”
Bennett leaned back, her gray eyes narrowing. “I spoke with the District Attorney this morning. Richard’s legal team is already making moves behind closed doors. They’re putting immense pressure on the DA’s office, claiming Richard is an elderly man being framed by a bitter daughter-in-law seeking a payout in an upcoming divorce.”
Claire laughed bitterly. “Divorce? I wasn't planning on divorcing Daniel until he proved he’d rather protect his father than his own daughter.”
“If you want to fight this,” Bennett warned gently, “you need your own representation. A standard criminal defense attorney won't cut it. You’re up against the Pierce fortune. They own police union reps, local judges, and half the city council.”
“I don't have millions of dollars, Detective,” Claire said quietly. “I’m a high school art teacher. Daniel controls our joint accounts.”
Bennett pulled a business card from her jacket and slid it across the table. “Her name is Marcus Vance. No relation to Eleanor Vance—in fact, they hate each other. Marcus used to be a federal prosecutor before he went into private practice. He specializes in high-conflict domestic cases involving powerful defendants. He doesn't come cheap, but if you mention my name, he’ll take the case pro bono to tear Eleanor Vance apart.”
Claire picked up the card. The name MARCUS VANCE - ATTORNEY AT LAW was embossed in sharp silver letters.
An hour later, Claire stood outside a sleek glass skyscraper in downtown. As she walked into the lobby, her phone buzzed with an emergency notification from her home security app.
She opened the app and her heart stopped.
The camera feed from her living room showed two men in suits standing near her desk, rifling through her personal filing cabinets. Daniel was standing nearby, watching them without stopping them.
Claire panicked. She tapped the microphone icon on her phone. “Daniel! What are you doing? Who are those men?”
In the live feed, Daniel jumped, looking toward the camera mounted near the ceiling. He looked guilty, like a child caught stealing.
“Claire,” Daniel stammered through the speaker. “Eleanor Vance sent her investigators. We... we need to collect all documents regarding Dad’s property holdings and my trust accounts. We’re preparing the settlement papers.”
“Get them out of my house!” Claire screamed through the phone. “Get them out right now!”
“Claire, stop being hysterical!” Daniel yelled back. “They offered a new deal! If we agree, Dad will turn himself in quietly, plead to a lesser misdemeanor of reckless endangerment, avoid prison, and pay for all of Emma’s medical treatments plus a five-million-dollar immediate payout to us!”
“He burned our daughter!” Claire sobbed into her phone, standing in the middle of the crowded skyscraper lobby, tears streaming down her face. “He tried to kill her skin! He belongs in a cage!”
“He’s my father, Claire!” Daniel screamed back, his voice crackling through the small speaker. “And I won't let you destroy him! I’m changing the locks on the house today. Don't come back here until you’re ready to be reasonable!”
The line went dead.
Claire stood frozen in the middle of the bustling lobby. People walked past her, ignoring the woman crying alone near the elevators. Her husband had locked her out of her own home. He was handing over evidence to his father’s lawyers. They were wiping away Richard’s crimes with a pen and a checkbook.
She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, her posture hardening. The fear inside her evaporated, replaced by a cold, incandescent fury.
She turned away from the exit and walked straight toward the high-speed elevators, pressing the button for the 34th floor—the office of Marcus Vance.
When the elevator doors opened, she walked into a towering office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. A tall man in his late nineties with silver hair and a razor-sharp navy suit stood by the window, sipping a glass of bourbon despite it being mid-afternoon.
He turned as she entered. “Mrs. Pierce?”
“Mr. Vance,” Claire said, her voice shaking but resolute. “Laura Bennett sent me.”
Marcus Vance looked at her, noting the distress on her face, the tear stains on her cheeks, and the fierce determination in her eyes.
“I know who you are, Mrs. Pierce,” Marcus said, walking over to his desk and gesturing for her to sit down. “And I know what Richard Pierce did to your daughter. My sister Eleanor called me an hour ago, warning me not to touch your case.”
Claire’s heart sank. “Are you going to refuse?”
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Marcus offered a dark, sharp smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Refuse? Mrs. Pierce, my sister has spent twenty years representing monsters with deep pockets. I’ve spent twenty years waiting for the right case to ruin her.”
He sat down across from her and opened a clean legal pad. “Tell me everything. And don't leave out a single detail.”
