Chapter 7 - The Mastermind Unmasked
The trial didn't last three weeks as the local newspapers had predicted. It lasted four days.
On Friday afternoon, facing a sixty-count indictment for identity theft, grand larceny, wire fraud, and corporate forgery, Savannah Vance entered a guilty plea to three felony counts under a plea agreement negotiated by her attorney.
I sat in the second row of the gallery when Judge Thornton delivered the sentence.
"Savannah Vance," Judge Thornton said, her voice dry and unyielding as she looked down from the bench. "You had every advantage a young woman in this Commonwealth could be given. You had a family that protected you, access to capital, and a sister who went out of her way to support your ambition. You repaid that support with calculated, systematic theft."
Judge Thornton signed the paper before her.
"On Count One, identity fraud, I sentence you to seven years in the Virginia Department of Corrections, with four years suspended. On Counts Two and Three, grand larceny and wire fraud, I sentence you to five years each, to run concurrently. You will serve a total of three years active time in state custody, followed by five years of formal probation, and you will pay restitution in the amount of six hundred and forty thousand dollars."
The gavel came down with a heavy, final THUD.
Savannah didn't scream. She didn't cry. She stood rigid as two female corrections officers stepped behind her, pulled her hands behind her back, and clicked the heavy steel handcuffs over her wrists.
My mother let out a low, breathless moan from the front row, collapsing sideways against the wooden bench. Two court attendants rushed forward to assist her, holding a bottle of smelling salts to her nose.
I didn't move. I sat in my seat, watching as Savannah was led through the side door that led to the holding cells. Just before she disappeared behind the heavy steel door, she turned her head and looked at me one last time.
There was no hatred in her eyes anymore.
There was only the terrible, cold realization that the shield she had used her entire life—the shield of family loyalty, of motherly protection, of sisterly sacrifice—had been shattered beyond repair.
I stood up, buttoned my navy coat, and walked out of the courtroom into the late afternoon sunshine.
Julian Vance was waiting for me in the lobby, holding two paper coffee cups from the cafe downstairs. He handed one to me.
"It’s over, Claire," Julian said softly.
"It’s over," I agreed, taking a sip of the warm black coffee.
"The board met this morning," Julian continued, walking beside me as we descended the marble steps of the courthouse. "In light of your performance handling the Tysons asset recovery, and the sheer level of forensic skill you demonstrated during the audit... the senior partners want to offer you a full partnership in the firm’s contract division."
I stopped on the stairs, looking at him in surprise. "A partnership? Julian, I’m a paralegal."
"You’re a contract specialist with a law degree you earned at night while raising a child," Julian said with a faint smile. "The bar board approved your character and fitness review two hours ago. The firm is paying for your formal license swearing-in ceremony next month."
He pulled an envelope from his coat pocket and handed it to me.
"Your new base salary starts at two hundred and eighty thousand," Julian said. "Plus profit sharing. You'll never have to worry about daycare, tuition, or rent again."
I held the envelope in my hand. The paper was heavy, white, embossed with the gold seal of Vance, Vance & Sterling.
I looked up at the sky. The rain clouds had blown away toward the east, leaving a brilliant, crystal-clear blue canopy over northern Virginia. The air was cold, crisp, and clean.
May you like
"Thank you, Julian," I said.
"Don't thank me, Claire," Julian said, clapping a hand gently on my shoulder. "You earned every inch of this road."
