Two days after my father-in-law died, my husband brought his mistress into our kitchen, / Chapter 67 / 80

Chapter 67 - The Hangar at Duluth

The Jayhawk touched down on the tarmac at the 148th Fighter Wing installation in Duluth just as the first gray light of dawn cracked the blizzard clouds over the lake.

The runway was lined with an armada of emergency vehicles: flashing red ambulances, black Department of Justice Suburbans, and tactical units from the United States Marshals Service. The moment the turbines wound down, federal agents in windbreakers bearing the yellow letters of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the DOJ Financial Crimes Division boarded the aircraft.

"Mrs. Amanda Vance?" a tall woman with graying hair and an iron-pressed suit approached me as the paramedics wheeled Thomas onto a gurney. She showed a gold federal credential. "I'm Special Agent Sarah Lin, Federal Receiver's Task Force. We have a medical team waiting inside the hangar for your daughter, and private quarters secured for you and Miss Freeman."

Two agents gently guided Chloe toward a waiting unmarked cruiser, reading her rights before the door even closed. She didn't fight them; she looked utterly hollowed out, her hands cuffed in front of her, staring at the snow-covered runway with the blank glaze of someone whose life had evaporated in twenty-four hours.

Inside the temperature-controlled hangar, doctors whisked Ruby through a comprehensive pediatric exam while I sat on an examination table, sipping scalding black coffee with a thermal blanket over my shoulders. Marilyn sat opposite me, her legal briefcase—the leather scarred by seawater and soot—resting securely between her wingtip boots.

"The Carlton Group’s board of directors was arrested an hour ago in Minneapolis and Chicago," Agent Lin informed us, setting a thick legal folder on the desk between us. "Coast Guard boarded their cutter off Devil's Island. The mercenaries surrendered without firing another round. Julian Vance’s body was recovered from the submerged cavern forty minutes ago."

My heart gave a hollow, cold ache. Julian. The man who had walked his mistress into my kitchen two days after his father died, whose greed and cowardice had driven him off the iron ladder into the frozen dark. He was gone, swallowed by the cold water he had tried to sell.

"And Arthur?" Marilyn asked, her voice raspy from smoke inhalation. "Did the search teams find Arthur Vance’s remains in the lightkeeper’s quarters?"

Agent Lin’s expression darkened. She exchanged a glance with her deputy before looking back at us.

"The fire was intense, but forensic teams sweeping the foundation found no human remains in the ashes," Lin said quietly. "The underground drainage conduit beneath the lighthouse cistern empties onto the northeast reef. A high-speed Zodiac dinghy was spotted cutting north toward the Canadian territorial waters twenty minutes after you were hoisted. Canadian Mounties have put an intercept perimeter on Isle Royale, but visibility is near zero."

Marilyn set her coffee cup down with a sharp porcelain clatter. "He’s heading for the deep archive. Donald warned us. If Arthur reaches the Canadian side, he can execute the secondary bearer covenants before the federal receiver can file the injunction in Thunder Bay."