Chapter 13 - The Mask
Mark froze, his knee still pinning Sam’s shoulder to the vault floor.
"What do you mean that wasn't Vance?" Mark’s voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through the damp vault air like a razor.
Sam wiped a mix of blood and sweat from her cheek, her chest heaving. "The dental records... the ring on his finger... it was staged, Mark. Vance had a body double. A guy named Miller—not your brother, a drifter from up north. Vance paid him to drive that Taurus off the road tonight."
Mark remembered the dark stain on the shirt, the glazed eyes staring at the dash. He hadn't checked the jawline. He hadn't checked the scar Vance was supposed to have under his left ear from a hunting accident ten years ago. He’d seen a corpse in a expensive suit and assumed the nightmare was over.
He reached into his jacket, pulled out the hard drive from locker 408, and held it in front of Sam’s face.
"What's on this?"
"The access codes," Sam rasped, her eyes hollow. "To the offshore accounts. Vance didn't just skim money from the town, Mark. He was laundering cartel cash through the municipal bond network. Your brother found out. My brother found out. That’s why Tommy died. That’s why John had to die."
A heavy metallic click echoed from the top of the vault stairs.
Not a footstep. The sound of a heavy vault door swinging shut.
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"They followed me," Sam breathed, her face going completely white. "Mark... I brought them right to you."
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