Chapter 6 - The Council at the Lake Forest Estate
The rain had cleared by 2:00 PM, leaving the grand iron gates of the Vance Memorial Estate in Lake Forest bathed in a brilliant, dazzling autumn sunshine that turned the eighty-year-old sugar maples into towering monuments of liquid copper and gold.
The thirty-room stone manor—built in nineteen-thirty-two by Emily’s great-grandfather, a timber baron who had helped rebuild Chicago after the great fire—was dead silent, save for the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath the tires of four black executive town cars pulling into the circular carriage sweep.
Inside the two-story private library, the air smelled of beeswax, morocco leather bindings, pipe tobacco, and the sweet, rich aroma of warm cinnamon rolls that had been baked in the estate’s private kitchen that morning.
Sitting on the low Persian rug beside the roaring limestone fireplace was eight-month-old Lily.
The child was radiant.
She wore an ivory hand-knitted cashmere romper, her dark curls combed into soft ringlets, laughing as she batted happily at a plush stuffed elephant that had belonged to Emily when she was a toddler.
Beside Lily sat Mrs. Gable, holding a porcelain cup of Earl Grey tea, smiling with pure, unreserved grandmotherly joy.
I stood at the floor-to-ceiling French doors overlooking the terrace, wearing an oversized cream fisherman’s sweater over dark denim trousers, holding an antique stoneware mug of black coffee with both hands.
The heavy mahogany double doors of the library clicked open.
Marcus Vance walked inside, wearing a fresh three-piece charcoal suit, accompanied by Robert Hayes, who carried three leather-bound legal ledgers under his arm.
"The forensic accounting report on Vance-Crest Contracting is complete, Emily," Robert Hayes said softly, pulling out a wing chair near the hearth and sitting down with a deep, satisfied sigh.
"The audit revealed that over the last twenty-four months, Daniel siphoned one hundred and eighty-six thousand dollars from the company's equipment repair escrows.
He used seventy-two thousand to pay off his brother's gambling debts in Joliet, forty thousand to purchase an offshore fishing boat in Michigan City, and sixty thousand to pay the property taxes on Margaret's house in Downers Grove."
Marcus Vance chuckled—a dry, terrifying sound that held twenty-five years of corporate litigation contempt.
"And the grand jury, Marcus?" I asked, turning my head to meet his gaze.
"The State’s Attorney for DuPage County unsealed twelve felony indictments forty minutes ago, Emily," Marcus reported, every word dropping like a lead weight.
"Grand theft under Chapter 720, Section 16-1.
Securities fraud involving municipal bond escrows.
And aggravated financial exploitation of a corporate entity.
The warrants for Daniel and his brother Kyle were delivered to the sheriff’s department at noon."
A soft, familiar chime sounded from the foyer intercom.
The estate security guard’s voice came through the speaker:
"Dr. Vance, there is an elderly woman at the main entrance gate. She drove up in a nine-year-old Buick. She is demanding to speak with you regarding the legal notices posted on her property in Downers Grove."
I looked down at Lily playing on the rug.
The child looked up at me, letting out a delighted, gurgling coo, holding up her stuffed elephant with both hands.
"Open the gate, Thomas," I said into the intercom, my voice smooth, quiet, and completely level.
"Let Margaret come up the drive.
May you like
It’s time she learned...
what a real family dinner looks like."
