CHAPTER 18 — Into the Viper's Nest
The van sped through the dark streets, Miller helping me off the floor and checking me for injuries. "You're crazy, Sarah," Miller laughed, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "A twenty-foot drop? You're not twenty-five anymore!"
"I feel it," I groaned, rubbing my side, but I held up the canvas bag triumphantly. "But we got it. We have everything."
Elias navigated the van toward a deserted parking lot on the edge of town. "So, what's the play? We can't just hand these to the cops if they think we stole them in a burglary. The chain of custody is ruined."
"We don't hand them to a random cop," I breathed, pulling my phone from my pocket. "We hand them to the one man who has been trying to take Vance down for years, the one man who won't care how we got them, as long as they put Vance away." I dialed a number I had pulled from public records earlier that week. It rang three times before a gruff, tired voice answered.
"Detective Reynolds."
"Detective, my name is Sarah. You don't know me, but you know my brother-in-law, Greg. And more importantly, you know Marcus Vance."
There was a long pause on the line. "I'm listening."
"Vance has been running an illegal foreclosure and extortion racket. I have the physical ledgers. I have digital backups of his fraudulent notary stamps and his offshore accounts. I have enough evidence to put him in federal prison for the rest of his natural life."
"And why are you telling me this over the phone in the middle of the night?" Reynolds asked, a spark of hope cutting through his exhaustion.
"Because I need a favor," I replied, staring at the thick ledgers. "I need immunity for how this evidence was acquired. I need Greg's debt erased from the public record. And I need you to arrest Vance before the sun comes up."
Reynolds sighed. "I can't grant blanket immunity, lady. I'm a detective, not the DA. And evidence obtained illegally—"
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"Will magically appear on your desk in a plain brown envelope, completely anonymously," I interrupted smoothly. "You found it. A whistleblower sent it. You verify the accounts, you raid Vance's office legally with a warrant based on this new information, and you win the case of your career. Do we have a deal?"
A low chuckle came through the speaker. "Leave the envelope at the diner on 4th Street. Booth in the far back. Give me two hours." He hung up. I looked at Miller and Elias. "The mission is a success. Let's go home."
