Chapter 6 - The Paper Trail in the Vault
By midnight, the storm had turned into a torrential downpour, rattling against the reinforced windows of Weller Automotive’s downtown headquarters.
Arthur and four armed security operatives escorted Nathan and Claire into the sub-basement archive, an underground vault lined with steel filing cabinets holding fifty years of corporate records. Sitting in the center of the room, illuminated by a single overhead fluorescent lamp, was Susan Pike.
The floor director looked like a ghost. Her four-hundred-dollar heels were gone, replaced by cheap paper slippers, and her designer makeup was smeared down her cheeks. Two private investigators sat across from her with open folders.
""Mr. Weller, please,"" Susan cried out the moment the heavy vault door swung open. ""I didn't know! I swear to God I didn't know who she was! Miss Vance told me two years ago to keep Claire Ives on Line Four, assign her the most dangerous shifts, and make sure she never passed the supervisor's exam! She paid me an extra five thousand dollars a month in cash to keep her down on the floor!""
Claire stood beside Nathan, her arms crossed, looking at the woman who had made her life a living hell for seven years. ""Why, Susan? What did Evelyn tell you?""
Susan swallowed hard, clutching her trembling hands against her chest. ""She said you were a former foster kid who had stolen something from her family years ago. She said if you ever got promoted to the front office or appeared on the corporate payroll registers that went to the board, Nathan would see your name and your tax records. She told me if I ever let you leave Station 27, she would fire my husband from the logistics fleet!""
Nathan stepped forward, slapping a thick leather-bound ledger onto the steel table. ""The off-the-books bank accounts, Susan. Where did Evelyn transfer the maintenance funds for the nursery cameras twenty-four years ago?""
""The blue box,"" Susan whispered, pointing toward a padlocked fireproof safe in the corner of the archive. ""The key is around Evelyn’s neck, behind her emerald pendant. But she isn't in her apartment, Mr. Weller. While you were at the house on Maple Street, she ordered the corporate jet fueled at the regional airfield. She’s liquidating the bearer bonds in the Cayman holding accounts right now!""
Nathan didn't hesitate. He pulled a heavy steel pry-bar from the emergency kit on the wall, wedged the hardened tip beneath the safe’s lock, and put his entire weight behind it. With a violent screech of tearing metal, the locking bolts sheared off.
Inside the safe lay three thick folders, a stack of blank identity documents, and an audio cassette labeled Chicago – Saint Jude’s – June 1999.
Claire reached into the safe and pulled out the tape. Beside it was a yellowed hospital logbook with the name VANCE, E. signed on the third-floor visitor log at 9:10 AM on the morning Clara Weller disappeared.
""She kept it,"" Claire said, her voice shaking with disbelief. ""She kept the proof all these years.""
""Monsters always keep trophies,"" Nathan said, taking the tape with a trembling hand. ""They think it makes them invincible. They think as long as they hold the secret, nobody can ever touch them.""
Arthur’s radio crackled to life at his shoulder. ""Boss, this is Perimeter Team Two. Miss Vance’s black Mercedes just breached the hangar gate at the county airport. The Gulfstream is spooling up its engines on Runway Three.""
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Nathan looked at Claire. For the first time in twenty-four years, the hollow, haunted look in his eyes was replaced by pure steel. ""Clara. Would you like to come with me to fire our senior vice president?""
Claire reached down, tightened the laces on her steel-toed boots, and looked her father dead in the eye. ""Let's go.""
