Chapter 6 - THE SHADOW AUDIT
That evening, I returned to the Voss house acting completely oblivious.
I sat at the dining room table with my laptop open, reviewing fake financial documents and pretending to finalize the preliminary consultant contract for Derek.
Derek sat next to me, eyeing the paperwork like a starving dog looking at a steak.
“So,” Derek said, his voice trembling with anticipation. “If I sign this advisory contract tonight, when does the initial retainer clear?”
“The initial setup fee of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars clears into your designated business account forty-eight hours after compliance verification,” I said smoothly, sliding a crisp, official-looking contract across the table.
“However,” I added, leaning back, “as part of Vanguard’s standard compliance anti-fraud policy, our corporate auditors require full access to your existing personal and business bank statements for the past three years to verify there are no active liens or tax frauds against you.”
Derek hesitated. I could see the panic flashing behind his eyes.
“My... my personal statements? Is that really necessary, Adrienne? It’s just a standard consulting role.”
“Derek,” I said, dropping my voice to a serious, authoritative whisper. “This is a multi-million dollar corporate project. Vanguard does not work with individuals who have hidden debts. If you have nothing to hide, it’s a twenty-minute digital upload. If you can’t provide transparency, I’ll have to award the contract to our secondary choice in Seattle.”
Marlene, who was listening intently from the kitchen doorway, hissed loudly, “Derek! Give her whatever she needs!”
Derek swallowed hard. The greed won over his caution.
“Of course,” he said quickly, reaching for his laptop. “I have nothing to hide. I’ll log into my banking portal right now and grant your compliance team read-only access.”
He typed in his credentials, turning the screen toward me to show his goodwill.
What Derek didn't know was that the custom “compliance portal link” I had provided him wasn't connected to Vanguard at all.
It was a secure data-capture bridge connected directly to Marcus Vance’s forensic accounting servers.
Within five minutes of Derek logging in, Marcus’s team was downloading every single financial transaction, bank account, hidden credit line, and illegal transaction Derek Voss had made over the last decade.
At 11:30 PM, while the house slept, I met Marcus in an unmarked van parked two streets over.
Marcus pulled up a massive spreadsheet on a dual-monitor setup inside the van.
“Your brother-in-law is even deeper in the mud than we thought,” Marcus said, pointing at the screen. “Derek has over two hundred thousand dollars in illegal gambling debts to an offshore sports-betting ring. He’s been taking out fraudulent high-interest payday loans in Caroline’s name using her stolen Social Security number.”
“He stole her identity?” I felt a surge of cold fury.
“Not just her identity,” Marcus pointed to a series of recurring monthly payments. “Look at these payments to a private clinic in suburban Portland—Dr. Arthur Sterling, Psychiatric Services.”
“Who is Dr. Sterling?”
“A dirty doctor whose license was suspended in California ten years ago before he relocated to Oregon,” Marcus said. “Derek has been paying Sterling three thousand dollars a month in cash under the table.”
“For the illegal prescriptions,” I realized immediately.
“Exactly. And here’s the smoking gun, Adrienne,” Marcus clicked a sound file on his screen. “This is an audio recording captured two hours ago from the wiretap in Derek’s car when he called Dr. Sterling after your lunch.”
Marcus pressed play.
Derek’s voice echoed through the speakers of the van, frantic and desperate: “Sterling, we need to move the evaluation up to this Friday! Caroline’s sister is poking around. She’s demanding financial audits. I need the legal declaration of mental incompetence signed and filed with the court before the end of the week, or the whole thing blows up!”
A raspy, elderly doctor’s voice answered: “Moving the date up requires double the fee, Derek. And she needs to look visibly unhinged for the court evaluator. Increase her daily dosage of the Fluphenazine starting tomorrow morning. Make sure she’s completely non-verbal by Friday.”
“Done,” Derek’s voice replied cold-bloodedly. “Just have the incompetence papers ready to sign.”
I sat in the dark van, my hands shaking violently as the recording ended.
They weren't just trying to steal her money. They were going to chemically lobotomize my sister within forty-eight hours.
“We have enough to arrest them, Adrienne,” Marcus said urgently. “The wiretap, the prescription records, the financial fraud. I can call the DA right now.”
“No,” I said, my voice dripping with lethal coldness. “If we arrest them now, they’ll post bail using the equity on the house. They’ll stall in court. I want them ruined before the police even slap the handcuffs on them.”
“What are you going to do?”
May you like
I turned to Marcus, a terrifying smile spreading across my face.
“Friday is when they think they’re going to destroy my sister,” I said softly. “So Friday is the day I take everything they have—their home, their money, their freedom, and their dignity.”
