Chapter 16 - The Cold Reality of County Lockup
At the Placer County Jail in Tahoe City, the atmosphere was far removed from the pristine luxury of Whispering Pines.
Chloe sat on a metal bench in the holding tank, her designer silk blouse stained with spilled wine and grease from the fingerprinting ink. Her mascara was smeared down her cheeks in jagged black tracks, and the manicured acrylic nails she had spent two hundred dollars on were chipped and broken against the cold steel of the cell door.
Across the corridor in the men’s holding unit, Arthur Vance was pacing like a caged dog, his expensive cashmere sweater looking frayed and ridiculous under the buzzing fluorescent tubes. Julian sat in the corner, staring at his shoes in silence, completely pale, his hands trembling violently.
"This is an outrage!" Arthur bellowed for the fiftieth time at the deputy sitting behind the reinforced glass desk. "I am a prominent Lake Tahoe property owner! My daughter’s wedding is scheduled for next month at Whispering Pines! Do you have any idea how much money I contribute to this county? I demand to speak to Judge Henderson immediately!"
"Sit down, Vance," the deputy replied without looking up from his computer monitor. "Your arraignment isn't until ten o'clock. And Judge Henderson recused himself twenty minutes ago."
"Recused himself?" Chloe shrieked, clutching the bars of her cell. "Why would he recuse himself? Julian’s father golfs with him! This is all Marcus’s fault! That ungrateful, sociopathic monster threw his own family in a cage! He gave me that house! Daddy said it was mine!"
"Shut up, Chloe!" Julian snapped suddenly, his voice cracking with hysteria. He stood up, knocking his metal stool against the floor. "Just shut the hell up! You don't understand what’s happening, you stupid brat! They didn't just arrest us for eviction or a property dispute!"
"Julian, darling, calm down," Arthur insisted, waving his hands with an air of dismissive authority that rang completely hollow. "Marcus is just throwing a temper tantrum because we put the estate in Chloe's name. It’s a civil matter at best. My attorney will file an emergency injunction at dawn, we’ll claim Marcus was suffering from post-deployment instability, and the deed will hold. A few hundred dollars in administrative fines, and we’ll be back on the terrace having breakfast."
"Are you completely blind, Arthur?" Julian shouted, tears of pure terror leaking from his eyes. "The men who came for the drive... they were tracking the property! If the feds trace that Oakland shipping manifest back to my office—"
"Nobody is tracing anything," Arthur hissed, stepping toward Julian with a venomous glare. "Marcus doesn't have the stomach for a real fight. He’s always folded. When I told him his mother was sick, he sent five thousand dollars within ten minutes. When I told him the roof collapsed, he wired twelve thousand. He’s weak. He lives by rules and duty. Men like that don't destroy their own blood."
The heavy hydraulic security doors at the end of the booking corridor groaned open.
The loud clatter of tactical combat boots echoed off the concrete floor.
It wasn't the county bailiff walking in.
May you like
It was a team of four United States Marshals wearing tactical plate carriers, led by an Assistant United States Attorney carrying a thick, black leather trial binder, flanked by NCIS Special Agent Sarah Torres.
And walking right behind them, pristine in his naval service uniform, medals catching the cold fluorescent light, was Commander Marcus Vance.
