Chapter 17 - The Turncoat’s Ledger
Marcus stood in the doorway, water dripping from the brim of his black tactical cap onto the expensive wool rug. His breathing was heavy, his eyes darting frantically between Victoria Vance and me. He didn't look like an untouchable corporate enforcer anymore; he looked like a desperate man running out of time.
"Mrs. Vance," Marcus choked out, ignoring Victoria entirely as he took a step into the room.
I raised my hand, signaling Sarah not to panic. I kept my expression completely neutral, my fingers resting lightly on the armrest of my wheelchair. "Marcus. I wondered how long it would take you to realize that sinking ship wasn't going to rescue you."
Victoria spun around, her face twisting in sudden rage. "Marcus? You traitorous dog! What are you doing here? If you're working with her—"
"Shut your mouth, Victoria," Marcus snapped, his voice rough and dangerous. The professional deference he had shown the Vance family for a decade was completely gone. "Julian is in federal custody, and the feds are already raiding the Duluth penthouse and the downtown headquarters. They seized my bank accounts this afternoon. Everything I was promised for keeping my mouth shut about the lake... it's gone."
"And you thought coming here would buy you immunity?" I asked, my voice cutting through the tension like a razor.
Marcus reached inside his heavy waterproof jacket, his hand moving slowly so as not to provoke any sudden movements. He pulled out a thick, water-resistant manila envelope and tossed it onto the mahogany desk. It slid across the polished wood, coming to a stop right in front of me.
"I didn't come here for immunity, Mrs. Vance," Marcus said, his eyes fixed on mine with a grim intensity. "I came here because I know when a game is over. That envelope contains every encrypted text message, every bank transfer receipt, and every recorded phone call between Julian, Derek, and myself regarding the morning at Lake Minnetonka. It proves premeditation. First-degree attempted murder."
Sarah gasped, rushing forward to pick up the envelope. Her hands trembled as she pulled out a handful of printed transcripts and a small, secure flash drive. She plugged the flash drive into her laptop, and within seconds, a series of audio files populated the screen.
I pressed play on the first file.
Julian’s arrogant, unmistakable voice filled the quiet study: *"Just make sure the brakes on the chair fail halfway down the dock, Marcus. Once she's in the water, the hypothermia will do the rest before anyone even wakes up. The eleven million from the trust is ours to split by noon."*
The audio played on, crisp and damning, capturing every cold, calculating detail of the plot to murder me for an inheritance.
Victoria stared at the laptop screen, her face completely drained of color. She knew the game was utterly, irreversibly lost. There was no escaping this. The evidence was absolute, bulletproof, and already backed up to three different cloud servers that Marcus had wisely set to auto-release if anything happened to him.
"You recorded them," Victoria whispered, looking at Marcus in disbelief. "You recorded your own bosses?"
"A smart dog always keeps a leash on his master," Marcus replied coldly. "And now, Mrs. Vance, I’m handing the leash over to you."
I looked down at the manila envelope, then up at Marcus, a slow, calculating smile forming on my lips. "You think a flash drive buys your freedom, Marcus? You still stood by the dock. You still watched me go under."
"I didn't pull the chair, ma'am," Marcus said quietly, his voice dropping defensive barriers. "And... I left the perimeter gate unlocked so the Coast Guard could get to the cove ten minutes faster than Julian planned. Check the logs. If I hadn't done that, you wouldn't be sitting in this room right now."
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I studied him for a long, agonizing moment. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.
***
