Chapter 6 - The Vance Legacy
By noon, the news broke across local northern Virginia media.
FORMER ST. ANDREW’S PRINCIPAL ARRESTED IN ARLINGTON POISONING INVESTIGATION
The police mugshot of Arthur Vance appeared on every local news network—his silver hair disheveled, his expensive silk shirt unbuttoned, his eyes staring blankly at the camera like a trapped animal.
I sat in Sarah Lawson’s downtown office, watching the coverage on a wall-mounted TV while drinking hot tea.
The door opened, and Sarah walked in carrying a heavy leather briefcase. She set it on the table with a loud thud.
“Arthur’s bail hearing just concluded,” Sarah said, sitting across from me. “His attorney tried to argue for personal recognizance, citing his community standing and age. But Detective Miller presented the toxicology report and your video evidence.”
“Did he get bail?” I asked.
“Set at two million dollars, cash only, with full surrender of his passport and an electronic ankle monitor,” Sarah smiled grimly. “Evelyn spent the last two hours trying to liquidate their mutual fund accounts to post the bond, but she hit a snag.”
“What snag?”
Sarah pulled a document from her briefcase and slid it across the table.
“You,” Sarah said. “When you married David two years ago, Arthur insisted on putting the Arlington family home into a joint family trust to 'protect their assets.' What he didn't realize was that your father’s inheritance—the two hundred thousand dollars you contributed to the mortgage—gave you a twenty-five percent voting veto over the trust’s liquid assets.”
I looked down at the legal document. I remembered the day Arthur sat me down at the dining table, handing me a pen with a warm, fatherly smile, telling me that signing the trust agreement made me a “true Vance.”
He had tried to lock my money into his family’s control. Instead, he had given me the key to his financial execution.
“I want the trust frozen,” I said flatly. “Filing an emergency injunction blocking any withdrawal of funds pending our civil divorce and personal injury lawsuit.”
“Already filed,” Sarah grinned. “Evelyn is currently sitting at the Arlington National Bank with a bounced cashier’s check. Arthur is staying in a county jail cell tonight.”
My phone buzzed on the glass table.
It was a text from David:
Rebecca, please meet me at the house. Just ten minutes. Mom is falling apart. We need to talk about the trust. Please.
May you like
I looked at Sarah. “Is it legal for me to go to the house?”
“With a police escort to collect your personal belongings? Absolutely,” Sarah replied. “In fact, I encourage it. Let’s see how strong the Vances are when their castle stops floating.”
