Chapter 7
Las Vegas was hot and bright and nothing but trouble.
We landed at dusk. Kept things quiet. Used different names. Took a cab straight to the old courthouse downtown, the one where Daniel and Lauren had supposedly married all those years ago.
It was closed. We waited until morning.
I barely slept. Every shadow looked like Marcus Voss. Every car that lingered too long made my heart race.
First thing next morning, we walked into the clerk’s office. Asked for the marriage license.
The clerk typed. Frowned. Looked at us over her glasses.
“I can pull the record,” she said. “But the witness line is redacted. Sealed by court order three days ago.”
My heart sank. “Three days ago? Who ordered it?”
She tapped the screen. “Name redacted too. All I can tell you—it came from a firm right here in town. Voss & Associates.”
Voss.
He’d beaten us here.
My father leaned on the counter. “Can we appeal? Get a judge to lift it?”
“Takes weeks,” she said. “Maybe months. Sorry.”
We walked back outside into the blinding heat.
“Lauren said look for the second witness,” I said, pacing the sidewalk. “If Voss sealed the record… that witness is dangerous. Someone powerful. Someone they don’t want us to find.”
My father pulled out his phone. “I know a retired judge here. Owe him a favor. Let me make a call. Stay close to me. Don’t speak to anyone.”
He walked away down the block, phone to his ear.
I stood by the courthouse steps, watching traffic. Thinking.
Redacted. Sealed. Voss again.
Lauren said the name on the second witness was the first clue. If I couldn’t see the name… maybe I could remember.
I pulled out the photo—the one Lauren had thrown onto the cake table. The courthouse steps shot. Yesterday’s date. Three people standing together. Daniel. Lauren. And the third man. The attorney who’d handled my inheritance.
I’d seen his face a hundred times. But what about the day they got married? Six years earlier. Who stood beside them then?
I pulled up the photo on my phone. Zoomed in tight on the third man. He was older. Gray at the temples. Sharp jaw. Eyes that looked familiar somehow.
I froze.
I knew that face.
I’d seen him at family dinners. At business meetings. Standing right beside my own father more times than I could count.
My blood turned to slush.
The second witness. The man who’d helped Daniel set up everything. Who’d likely signed documents, moved money, opened doors.
It was my father’s oldest and closest friend. The man who’d been like an uncle to me since I was five years old.
And if he was involved… then Lauren’s last warning crashed back into my mind.
Trust no one. Not even your lawyer. Not even your family.
I looked down the block. At my father, still talking on the phone. Leaning against a streetlamp. Calm. Composed.
Had he known? All along?
Had he helped Daniel? Looked the other way? Or worse—planned it together?
My hands trembled. I stuffed the phone into my pocket. Walked toward him slowly. Praying I was wrong.
He hung up as I reached him. His expression was hard to read.
“Judge says he can get us the file by tomorrow morning,” he said. “Said the sealing order was sloppy. Voss didn’t cover all the bases.”
I studied his face. Searching. For guilt. For lies.
“Dad,” I said carefully. “Do you know a man named Arthur Sterling?”
His eyes widened. Just for a split second. Then he looked away.
“Arthur? Sure. Why?”
“He’s the witness,” I said quietly. “Isn’t he?”
My father went pale. The color draining from his face. His hands fell to his sides.
May you like
And in that silence—terrible and heavy—I knew.
He knew.
