Chapter 8 - The Hidden Ledger in the Floorboards
The discovery of the fraudulent paper watermark was the smoking gun Arthur needed, but the web was far more tangled than a single document.
While Arthur called the Noble County prosecutor from the porch, Josie took my hand again.
"There's more, Uncle Gerald," she whispered, pulling me toward the side of the house where the stone crawlspace door opened into the foundation. "Daddy had another phone. He kept it in a mason jar behind the water softener."
Ten minutes later, with a flashlight between my teeth, I crawled beneath the foundation of my own home.
The air was damp and smelled of cool earth. Tucked behind the heavy brine tank of the water filtration system, exactly where Josie had said, sat a two-quart glass jar wrapped in electrical tape.
Inside was a black burner phone and a handwritten ledger book—a cheap spiral notebook filled with dates, dollar amounts, and initials.
I crawled back into the daylight and handed the notebook to Arthur, who was just hanging up with the state attorney general's office.
Arthur flipped through the pages, his eyes widening with every line.
"Gerald... this isn't just Marcus's debt," Arthur breathed, his voice laced with disbelief. "This is a record of kickbacks. Marcus was acting as the point man for Apex Horizon to identify vulnerable lakefront properties across three counties. Look at these entries: *Lake Wawasee - Miller property*, *Tippy Lake - Henderson cottage*, *Indian Lake - Vance estate*."
"He was scouting homes for them?" Paige gasped from the deck, clutching the railing in horror. "He told me he was working as a property inspector for an insurance firm!"
"He was an inside man," Arthur corrected grimly. "He targeted properties owned by retirees who wintered down south, established unauthorized access, created fake paper encumbrances, and split the settlement payouts when Apex foreclosed. He was systematically laundering stolen deeds."
The burner phone in Arthur's hand suddenly began to vibrate violently.
The screen lit up with a caller ID: *Apex Main - Victor Crane*.
Arthur looked at me. "Victor Crane is the registered principal of Apex Horizon. He’s a disbarred corporate attorney out of Indianapolis."
"Put it on speaker," I instructed.
Arthur swiped the screen and tapped the speaker icon.
"Bradley, you idiot," a raspy, gravelly voice barked through the tiny speaker. "Donnie told me the sheriff hauled you in. Did Vance find the original paper or is it still in your trunk? Answer me, Bradley!"
Arthur cleared his throat and spoke with absolute, icy authority. "Marcus Bradley is currently in a holding cell at the Noble County Jail without bond, Mr. Crane. This is Arthur Vance, senior counsel for Gerald Vance. And you have approximately twenty-eight hours to resign your claim before the state police execute a raid on your office on West Main Street."
There was a dead silence on the line.
Then, Victor Crane let out a low, dry chuckle that made the hair on my arms stand up.
May you like
"Arthur Vance," Crane purred smoothly. "The country lawyer. You always were too slow for modern commerce. Look out your front gate, Arthur. We aren't waiting for Friday anymore."
***
