Part 17
The main branch of the downtown bank was a massive, stone building with high ceilings and marble floors.
It looked like a fortress.
But fortresses are always vulnerable from the inside.
We walked through the heavy revolving doors at 1:15 PM.
The lunch hour rush was dying down, and only a few customers stood in line.
I looked at the teller windows.
Nameplates were displayed under the bulletproof glass.
Jessica. Michael. David.
Window number four was empty.
The nameplate read: Evelyn Brooks — Assistant Manager.
A little plastic sign sat on the counter: Closed temporarily.
My stomach twisted.
"Excuse me," I said, stepping up to the customer service desk where a young man was sorting papers.
"Is Evelyn Brooks working today?"
The man looked up, giving a polite but strained smile.
"Ms. Brooks called in sick this morning, ma'am."
"Did she call from home?" I asked.
The man's smile faded. "I'm sorry, I can't share personal employee information."
"It's an emergency," Derek stepped forward, his voice low and urgent.
"I'm Derek Parker. She handled my account transaction two weeks ago."
"The police are currently investigating a major fraud case involving her family."
The man's eyes went wide. He looked around the lobby nervously.
"One moment," he whispered.
He got up and walked quickly into a back office.
Two minutes later, an older man in a sharp grey suit came out.
His badge read: Branch Director.
"Mr. Parker? Mrs. Parker? Please come with me," he said, his voice tight.
He led us into a private, soundproof office and closed the door.
"I am Julian Vance," he said.
I stared at him. "Another Vance?"
He held up his hands defensively. "Richard is my cousin, but I have nothing to do with his business."
"In fact, I'm the one who flagged Evelyn's account activity this morning."
"What happened?" I demanded, sitting down.
"Evelyn Brooks didn't call in sick," Julian Vance said, leaning over his desk.
"Her roommate called."
"She said Evelyn didn't come home last night."
"And at 4:00 AM this morning, someone used Evelyn's security credentials to log into the bank's main server from a remote terminal."
"They didn't steal money."
"They deleted the original digital footprints of the wire transfers from Caldwell Holdings."
"The entire backup history for Derek's transaction... gone."
I felt a wave of cold sweat break out on my neck.
"They are destroying the evidence," I whispered.
"Yes," Julian said. "But the person who did it made one mistake."
"The remote terminal they used wasn't a laptop or a phone."
"It was a dedicated workstation inside a private safe deposit vault leased under a corporate name."
"Which corporate name?" Derek asked.
Julian looked at me, his eyes full of fear.
"Parker Estates Liability," he said.
"A company created three days ago."
"Using your name, Eleanor."
"And the vault is located right here."
"In the basement of this building."
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"And according to the security log... the user never checked out."
"Whoever it is... she's still down there."
