Chapter 8 - The Trap Springs
Richard froze completely, his expensive bourbon glass slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor.
Agent Vance kicked the legal documents entirely off the glass coffee table.
"You really thought you could use a minor to shield your illegal corporate buyouts?" Vance asked in disgust.
I let out a massive sigh of relief, dropping the heavy gold pen onto the carpet.
"You knew I was a federal agent this whole time?" Richard hissed, backing away slowly toward the balcony.
"We infiltrated your legal team six months ago," Vance explained calmly, drawing his service weapon.
Richard's eyes darted wildly around the luxurious penthouse, desperately looking for an exit.
"This is completely illegal entrapment," Richard shouted, his calm facade totally shattering.
"Actually, it is just very good police work," a familiar, booming voice called out from the hallway.
I turned around and saw Ray standing in the open doorway, breathing heavily.
He was wearing his grease-stained work clothes, and he looked incredibly angry.
"Ray!" I yelled, running quickly toward the man who had actually raised me.
Ray pulled me into a massive, bone-crushing hug, making sure I was completely safe.
"I found your note and called the local police," Ray told me, keeping his arm firmly around my shoulders.
"The local police connected us with the federal agents who were already monitoring this hotel."
Richard laughed hysterically, standing dangerously close to the open balcony doors.
"You think this is entirely over?" Richard screamed at all of us.
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his sleek black smartphone.
"I can execute the foreclosure on your house with one single phone call," Richard threatened wildly.
"And Brenda has already filed the custody paperwork at the local courthouse this morning."
Agent Vance stepped forward, keeping his weapon aimed directly at Richard's chest.
"Put the phone down, Richard," Agent Vance ordered strictly.
Richard dialed a number frantically and held the phone up to his ear.
"Execute the Dayton property asset seizure immediately," Richard yelled into the receiver.
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But instead of a banker's voice, a very confused hotel operator answered the line.
"I am sorry, sir, but the front desk has completely disabled outside calls for your room," the operator politely informed him.
