Chapter 20 - The Silver Tongue
"She’s alone," Marcus murmured, zooming the camera lens onto her face. "No local deputies. No federal agents. She thinks you’re still sitting in the great room waiting for her to file the post-arrest paperwork."
"Stay in the basement," I instructed Marcus, slipping the satellite phone and the two encrypted thumb drives into my inner jacket pocket. "Keep the safe door closed, but leave the cedar panel cracked. If she makes a move, I want you recording audio from the stairwell."
"Evelyn, she’s a civilian lawyer, but her father’s firm uses former agency contractors for security," Marcus warned. "Check your six."
"I was trained by the United States Navy to handle foreign threats, Marcus," I said, locking my jaw. "I can handle a crooked lawyer on my own terrace."
I walked up the stone steps, closed the basement access panel, and walked into the kitchen just as the front doorbell chimed three times.
I took a slow breath, smoothed my jacket, and opened the heavy oak door.
Sarah stood on the porch, a sympathetic smile resting comfortably on her face. She shook the lake drizzle from her umbrella and stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.
"Evelyn, thank God you're still awake," she said, setting her briefcase down on the entry console. "I just came from the federal detention center in Reno. Charles is being held without bail until his arraignment tomorrow morning."
"Is he?" I asked, leaning against the archway with my hands casually tucked into my pockets.
"The federal prosecutor is pushing for twenty years," Sarah continued, pulling a stack of legal forms from her coat. "Aggravated identity theft, wire fraud, conspiracy. But we have a minor procedural hurdle. Because Derek’s mother was a licensed notary in Nevada, the defense is going to subpoena your personal financial records for the last five years to prove you weren't operating as Charles's silent partner."
"My financial records are spotless, Sarah. You know that. You drafted them."
"Of course they are, darling," Sarah said softly, stepping closer, her tone dripping with rehearsed warmth. "Which is why I prepared this expedited protective waiver. If you sign this, it designates my father’s firm—*Vance, Sterling & Cross*—as your special jurisdictional counsel. It shields your naval personnel files from civilian discovery. No one gets to look at your deployment logs, Evelyn. It keeps your military record entirely clean."
She held out an expensive gold pen.
I looked at the pen. Then I looked into Sarah Vance’s blue eyes—the eyes of my mother’s friend’s daughter, the woman who had sat at my dining room table, drank my wine, and listened to me mourn my broken family while she was preparing to bury me under a mountain of treason charges.
"Your father has an impressive firm, Sarah," I said smoothly.
"He’s the best in the business," she smiled.
"Does he still operate out of Panama?"
Sarah’s smile didn't fade immediately. It froze—calcified into a mask of pure, sudden terror. The gold pen remained suspended in the air between us.
"What did you say?" she whispered.
May you like
"I asked if *Aegis Harbor International* is still turning a profit," I said, pulling the embossed business card from my pocket and letting it flutter to the floor between her designer shoes. "Or did Charles charge you too much for the San Diego Dry Dock refit reports?"
***
