Chapter 10: Dawn at the Courthouse
The sky over downtown was the color of bruised slate as I slipped into the narrow alleyway behind the county courthouse. The historic building loomed above me like a stern gray fortress, its Corinthian pillars stained by decades of exhaust and rain.
I pressed my back against the damp brick wall of the records annex, shivering in the dawn chill. My legs ached from the five-mile hike from the diner, and my mind was foggy with exhaustion. I pulled Arthur's phone from my pocket, checking the screen for the hundredth time. No new messages.
Suddenly, the crunch of gravel echoed from the mouth of the alley.
I tensed, sliding my hand into my backpack and gripping the heavy metal casing of the phone like a weapon. A dark sedan rolled slowly into the alley, its headlights off, engine idling with a low, muffled purr. The passenger-side door swung open, and a tall woman in a sharp trench coat stepped out into the gray morning light.
She had sharp features, wire-rimmed glasses, and hair streaked with silver pulled back into a tight bun. She stopped a few yards away, raising her hands slightly to show she meant no harm.
"Leo Vance?" she asked, her voice calm, crisp, and professional.
"Who are you?" I demanded, keeping my distance, my hazel eyes locked on hers.
"My name is Karen Shaw," she said, stepping closer and pulling an ID badge from her coat pocket. "I was your grandfather’s chief forensic accountant for twelve years. He called me three days before his stroke. He knew Richard was coming for him."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a small, heavy brass key attached to a weathered paper tag.
"This is the master key to the safety deposit box at First Liberty Bank across the street," Karen said, her eyes meeting mine with fierce determination. "Your grandfather left everything in your name, Leo. But we need to open that box before the probate court convenes at nine o'clock, or Richard's lawyers will seize the physical ledgers and burn us to the ground."
May you like
I looked at the brass key in her palm, then down at the phone in my hand. The public glamour of the Vance estate, the marble halls, the polite smiles—it was all a mask hiding a criminal empire. And standing here in the cold alley, holding my grandfather's key, I knew my childhood ended the night I walked down that grand staircase.
"Let's go," I said, my voice steady and unyielding. "Open the vault."
