Chapter 15 - The Waiting Game
The federal holding cell in downtown Los Angeles was a masterclass in psychological torture.
Fluorescent lights buzzed relentlessly overhead.
There were no windows, no clocks, no sense of time passing.
I sat on the cold metal bench, tracing the grooves in the concrete wall with my thumb.
It had been at least twenty-four hours since I was dragged out of my living room.
My mind raced through a thousand terrifying scenarios.
Where was Lucy?
Was Valerie safe?
Had Vance made a move on Child Protective Services yet?
The heavy steel door rattled and groaned open, breaking my spiral of panic.
A guard stepped inside.
"Your lawyer is here," he grunted, stepping aside.
Marcus walked in, carrying a thick leather briefcase.
He looked like he hadn't slept in a week.
His tie was loose, and he had dark circles under his eyes.
"Marcus," I jumped up, the chains around my ankles rattling loudly.
"Tell me they are okay."
"Tell me Vance didn't touch them."
"Valerie is fine," Marcus said quickly, putting his hands up to calm me down.
"Your mother stayed with her."
"She hired a private security detail for the house."
"Lucy is safe."
I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for an eternity.
I sank back onto the metal bench, dropping my head into my hands.
"What's the damage?" I asked.
Marcus opened his briefcase and pulled out a stack of legal pads.
"It’s bad, Carter."
"Your father did a spectacular job forging those transfer logs."
"They matched your digital signature perfectly."
"The feds are looking at thirty counts of wire fraud, embezzlement, and corporate espionage."
"If we go to trial, you're looking at twenty years in a federal penitentiary."
I stared at the concrete floor.
Twenty years.
Lucy would be grown.
Valerie would have spent her entire youth waiting for a ghost.
"We use the Cayman files," I said, looking up at him.
"The real ones."
"I have them backed up on a secure cloud server."
Marcus shook his head grimly.
"It’s not enough."
"The FBI has the real files now, but your father’s legal team is arguing that you stole them to cover your own tracks."
"They are painting you as a disgruntled son who embezzled the money and is now trying to frame his own father as revenge for being disowned."
"And the media is eating it up."
I clenched my fists so tight my knuckles turned white.
Richard Sterling was a grandmaster at chess, and I was playing checkers.
He had anticipated my every move.
"There has to be a weak link," I muttered, pacing the small cell.
"My father wouldn't have done the technical work himself."
"He doesn't know how to manipulate digital signatures or backdate banking software."
"Someone on the inside did it for him."
Marcus sighed, leaning against the cold wall.
"I know."
"But Richard pays for loyalty."
"Whoever did this is sitting on a massive offshore account right now, completely untouchable."
The steel door rattled again.
The guard poked his head in.
"Five minutes, counselor."
Marcus hurriedly packed his files back into his briefcase.
"Carter, the bail hearing is tomorrow morning."
"The prosecution is going to argue that you are a flight risk with access to hidden offshore funds."
"They will ask the judge to deny bail."
"If that happens... you stay in here until the trial."
I looked at Marcus, my oldest friend, the man who had stood by me when the rest of the world turned its back.
"Tell Valerie I love her," I said, my voice thick with emotion.
"Tell her not to come to the courtroom tomorrow."
"I don't want her to see me in chains."
Marcus nodded solemnly.
"I'll tell her."
May you like
"Hang in there, Carter."
He walked out, and the heavy steel door slammed shut behind him, plunging me back into the terrifying silence.
