Chapter 4 - The House on Crestview Lane
By noon, the rain had stopped, giving way to a cold, pale sunlight that reflected off the damp asphalt of Crestview Lane.
A yellow police tape line was stretched across the entrance of my driveway. Two federal sedans were parked out front, their trunks open as agents in blue windbreakers carried boxes of files, hard drives, and safe-deposit boxes out of my front door.
I sat in Mr. Kendall’s warm living room across the street, drinking hot tea. Mrs. Alvarez was sitting beside me, gently wrapping a fresh bandage around my hand where I had scraped it on the steps.
"They're taking everything out, Eleanor," Mr. Kendall said, looking through his front window blinds. "They just brought out Derek's computer servers from the basement."
"Derek always thought he was a criminal mastermind," I said softly, taking a sip of tea. "He didn't realize that in the modern world, every byte of data leaves a shadow. You can burn paper, but you can't burn a cloud ledger."
A knock came at Mr. Kendall’s front door.
Arthur Vance walked in, carrying a large manila envelope. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were glowing with a quiet, triumphant light.
"How are things at the precinct?" I asked.
"Derek broke," Arthur said, taking a seat on the armchair. "The moment Agent Vance showed him the bank routing slips connecting Apex LLC to Mayor Higgins' campaign fund, Derek offered to state's-evidence against everyone—including Emily and Marcus Thorne."
Mrs. Alvarez gasped. "He turned on his own wife?"
"Derek Miller never loved anyone except Derek Miller," I said calmly. "What did he say about the deed?"
"He admitted to forging your signature six months ago," Arthur revealed. "He used a light-box tracer and a high-resolution scan of your signature from an old Christmas card you sent them. The deed transfer has been officially voided by the County Registrar. Crestview Lane is legally yours again, Eleanor."
I looked across the street at the grand brick house I had shared with my husband for twenty-five years. The marble entryway where my blood had spilled was currently being swabbed by crime scene technicians for DNA evidence to support the aggravated assault charges.
"I don't want to live there anymore, Arthur," I said quietly.
Arthur blinked, surprised. "What? Eleanor, you fought so hard for that house—"
"I fought for the truth, Arthur," I corrected him. "I didn't fight for bricks and mortar. That house was filled with my husband's memory, but Derek and Emily turned it into a crime scene. I won't sleep in a place where my own child stood over me and told me I was nothing."
"What will you do with it?" Mrs. Alvarez asked softly.
"I'm selling it," I declared. "The market value is roughly three point two million dollars. Every single penny from the sale will go into creating The Eleanor Vance Foundation for Elderly Financial Protection."
Mr. Kendall smiled broadly, clapping his hands together. "Now that is justice."
"It's step one of justice," I said, setting my teacup down. "Step two begins at 3:00 PM today."
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"What's at 3:00 PM?" Arthur asked.
"Mayor Higgins is holding a press conference at City Hall to announce the groundbreaking of Sterling Towers," I said, a cold smile touching my lips. "And I have an invitation."
