Chapter 6 - The Shadows of the Firm
The arrest of Richard Vance sent shockwaves through the legal and political corridors of Des Moines. Within forty-eight hours, federal agents from the FBI and investigators from the Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation descended upon the high-rise offices of Vance, Sterling & Associates in downtown Des Moines.
What they uncovered was far larger and more terrifying than a single corrupt attorney.
I was sitting at my dispatch console on Tuesday evening when Detective Callahan walked onto the floor, holding two thick manila folders under his arm. He looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot, but there was a fierce, triumphant energy about him.
"You look like you haven't slept in two days, Mark," I said, handing him a clean bottle of water.
"I haven't," Callahan said, taking a deep gulp. "The FBI just unsealed a twenty-count federal indictment based on Sarah Vance’s red notebook."
I leaned forward. "What did they find?"
"Richard wasn't acting alone," Callahan revealed, leaning against the edge of my desk. "For the last six years, Richard was running a shadow syndicate inside his law firm. He was selling high-grade pharmaceutical toxins and untraceable evidence-elimination services to wealthy clients—corrupt executives, cartel operators, and high-ranking politicians across the Midwest."
I gasped. "He was a hitman for the elite."
"A clean hitman," Callahan corrected sharply. "He made homicides look like heart attacks, stroke events, and single-car accidents. His wife Sarah discovered the ledger three years ago when she found a hidden offshore bank account statement in his desk. She began documenting every name, every transaction, and every chemical order in that red notebook before he realized she knew."
"And when he realized she knew..." I whispered, the horror sinking in deeper.
"He killed her," Callahan confirmed bitterly. "And he kept Lucy locked in that house under constant surveillance because he was terrified Sarah might have told the child where the ledger was hidden. He removed the locks from her bedroom door so he could search her room whenever he wanted. He controlled every breath that little girl took for three long years."
"Where is Lucy right now?" I asked, my heart aching for the brave little girl who had survived three years in a house of horrors.
"She’s staying at a secure, undisclosed state foster facility under twenty-four-hour police guard," Callahan replied. "The preliminary hearing starts on Friday. Richard's legal team is already trying to claim that Lucy is incompetent to testify due to trauma."
"She’s not incompetent," I snapped, my hands tightening into fists. "She’s the smartest, bravest ten-year-old I’ve ever met."
"I know," Callahan said gently. "Which is why the prosecutor wants you to testify as a foundational witness, Megan."
I blinked, taken aback. "Me?"
"Your 911 call recording is the centerpiece of the prosecution's case," Callahan explained, opening the file folder to reveal a official court subpoena with my name stamped across the top. "Your intuition, your refusal to dismiss her words as a child's nightmare, is what got officers to that house. The prosecutor needs you on that stand to establish the child's state of mind during those crucial minutes."
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I took the subpoena into my hands, reading the bold black letters. A wave of nervous anxiety swept over me, but behind it was an iron wall of determination.
"I'll be there, Mark," I said softly. "I won't let him hurt her again."
