Chapter 7 - The BloodhoundTracking ghost money requires a very specific set of skills. Silas Thorne had those skills, and he had the endless resources of a syndicate that refused to write off a forty-million-dollar loss.
It took Griggs five days and three massive bribes to federal banking regulators to find the anomaly.
"We found a thread," Griggs said, slapping a manila folder down on Silas's desk. "The legitimate estate—everything not tied up in our shell companies—was bypassed around standard probate court. It was instantly liquidated and dumped into an ironclad blind trust."
Silas opened the folder. "Who is the beneficiary?"
"A woman named Lily Vance. Richard's wife."
Silas raised an eyebrow. "The abused housewife? I met her once at a gala. She looked like she was afraid of her own shadow. You’re telling me she masterminded a federal-level raid and seized his assets?"
"Not her," Griggs replied, tapping a grainy surveillance photo attached to the file. "Her father. Arthur Pendelton. On paper, he’s a nobody. A retired mechanic living in a two-bedroom house. But here’s where it gets weird."
Griggs leaned forward. "His military service record is completely redacted. Not just classified, but scrubbed. Blank pages. And on the day Richard vanished, this 'nobody' was seen walking right past local police, carrying his daughter out of the mansion."
Silas stared at the photo of the older, bearded man in the rusted pickup truck. There was something in the man’s eyes—a cold, dead calm—that Silas recognized. It was the look of a man who had left a lot of bodies behind him.
"Where are they?" Silas asked softly.
"He moved her to a remote cabin on the coast of Maine. Fifty miles from the nearest police station. Surrounded by dense woods." Griggs grinned. "They're totally isolated."
Silas stood up, buttoning his tailored suit jacket. "Take a team of six. Quiet men. Suppressed weapons. I want the girl alive so we can leverage the father. Once he tells us where our money is, kill them both."
"Consider it done," Griggs said, turning to leave.
May you like
Silas looked back down at the photo of Arthur. A faint prickle of unease ran down his spine, but he quickly dismissed it. No matter how dangerous this old man used to be, he was past his prime.
And no one could survive six armed men in the dark.
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