Chapter 48 - The Collapse of Donald Vance
By noon, the rain had returned to the mountain, washing gray rivulets of mud through the crushed gravel of Ridge Road.
The federal marshals had already come and gone. They had locked yellow steel boots onto the axles of the massive core-drilling rigs, plastered bold red *SEIZED BY THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT* placards across the cab windows, and escorted Harrison Cross and his private tactical team off the ridge in unmarked government vans.
The only person remaining on the logging road was Donald.
His brand-new truck had been hooked to the back of a commercial heavy-duty tow truck, its engine humming as the driver prepared to haul it away under a repossession order issued by the Bend dealership after Donald’s six-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar transfer was frozen by the federal court.
Donald stood in the pouring rain, his sheepskin coat drenched and sagging with fifty pounds of water, his designer boots coated in thick, sucking clay.
He stumbled up the gravel drive toward the sanctuary porch, his face streaked with tears, dirt, and snot.
"Cassidy!" he screamed, his voice breaking into a ragged, desperate wail. "Cassidy, open the door! They took the truck! They locked my bank account! The feds are at my apartment in Bend right now! They’re gonna arrest me, Cassidy! You gotta help me! I’m your brother!"
Cassidy stepped out onto the porch, wrapped in a warm wool cardigan, holding a steaming mug of tea. Julian stood just inside the foyer, watching through the leaded glass window with a look of serene, unbothered calm.
Cassidy walked to the top of the stairs and looked down at the man who had stolen her youth, who had taken her hard-earned mortgage money to buy whiskey and sports cars, who had looked at her with smug arrogance just twenty-four hours ago and mocked her as a 'bill-paying machine.'
"I don't have a brother, Donald," Cassidy said, her voice clear, calm, and utterly devoid of pity.
"You can't do this!" Donald dropped to his knees in the mud at the base of the stairs, clasping his hands together in a grotesque parody of prayer. "I’ll tell the feds it was all my fault! I’ll sign whatever you want! Just give me ten thousand dollars! Just enough to get across the border to Mexico! You got plenty of money! You’ve always had money! Dad always said you’d take care of us!"
"Dad was a thief," Cassidy said, taking a slow sip from her mug. "Mom was a coward. And you are a parasite. For fifteen years, I paid eighteen hundred and forty-five dollars every single month to buy your peace of mind while you slept in my home and planned how to take the rest of it."
She set her mug down on the cedar railing and looked him dead in the eye.
"You wanted to be independent, Donald. That’s what you and Mom told me the day you gave my bedroom away, remember? You said it was time for me to face the real world."
Cassidy stepped back toward the front door.
"Welcome to the real world, Donald. The sheriff will be here in eight minutes to serve your federal arrest warrant. I suggest you start running."
She stepped inside and shut the heavy oak door. The lock turned with a solid, definitive *thud*.
May you like
Through the rain-streaked window, Cassidy watched as Donald Vance scrambled to his feet, looked wildly down the deserted road, and began running into the darkening timber, his boots slipping in the mud as the distant siren of a state trooper vehicle echoed up the gorge.
***
