Part 15
Two weeks later, a letter arrived from the county courthouse.
It was an official notice that all inquiries regarding the deed of my property had been locked and secured.
No changes could be made without an in-person appearance by me, verified by biometric identification.
The system had finally caught up to the danger.
Derek was in the kitchen, making breakfast.
The smell of bacon and coffee felt normal again.
Real.
"Is that from the lawyer?" he asked, peeking his head out.
"No, from the county," I replied, setting the letter on the counter.
"The house is officially safe."
He nodded, a look of profound relief on his face.
He had been working from home, slowly rebuilding his client base after the chaos.
His company had been incredibly understanding once the police report was filed.
They realized he was a victim, not a criminal.
Suddenly, the landline phone on the wall rang.
We rarely used the landline anymore; it was mostly telemarketers.
I picked it up carelessly.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Eleanor Parker?"
The voice was formal, female, and very sharp.
"Yes, this is she."
"Mrs. Parker, my name is Linda Vance."
I froze.
Derek stopped moving in the kitchen.
"I am Richard Vance's wife," the woman said.
Her voice didn't sound angry. It sounded dead.
"I know I have no right to call you," she continued before I could speak.
"But I think you need to know something before the trial begins next month."
"My husband is a bad man, Mrs. Parker."
"But he is not the head of this organization."
My grip tightened on the receiver.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper.
"Richard was desperate because he owed money to some very dangerous people," Linda Vance said.
"People who operate far outside this city."
"The shell company, Caldwell Holdings? It didn't belong to Felicia or Cassandra."
"They were just the faces used to recruit people like your son."
"The real owner... the person who actually controls the offshore accounts... she is still out there."
"And she knows exactly who you are."
"Why are you telling me this, Mrs. Vance?" I asked, my heart starting to race again.
"Because this morning, my husband's private safe in our home was broken into," she whispered.
"Nothing was taken except for one folder."
"The folder containing your family's personal information."
"The police think it was a random burglary."
"But I know better."
"She is cleaning up the loose ends, Mrs. Parker."
"Be careful."
The line went dead.
I stood there, the dial tone buzzing in my ear like an angry insect.
The winter sun outside suddenly felt very cold.
I looked at Derek, who was watching me with intense concern.
"Mom?" he asked. "Who was that?"
I slowly put the phone back on the hook.
The danger hadn't left with the police cars.
It had just changed its shape.
May you like
"We need to go back to the blue folder, Derek," I said quietly.
"There is something we missed."
