Chapter 6 - The Eviction
Forty-eight hours later, a cold wind swept through the tall pines surrounding the Buckhead mansion.
A sleek black government SUV pulled up to the security gates, which were standing wide open. Behind the SUV were two county sheriff cruisers and a heavy commercial moving van.
I stepped out of the SUV, wearing a warm leather flight jacket and dark jeans. Ethan stepped out beside me, his presence solid, silent, and imposing.
On the wide stone porch, luggage, designer clothing boxes, and expensive vanity mirrors were piled in chaotic heaps. Evelyn Vance sat on a Louis XIV armchair that had been hauled out into the driveway, wrapped in a fur coat, her face pale, haggard, and aged twenty years in two days.
Adele sat on the stone steps, wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, staring blankly at the driveway. Her phone had been turned off; every social media account she possessed had been flooded with tens of thousands of scathing, hateful comments before she deleted them.
Sheriff Deputy Miller, a burly veteran with a mustache, walked down the steps to greet me.
"Captain Vance," he said, tipping his hat. "The federal marshals completed the asset inventory this morning. Everything purchased directly with funds from the fraudulent Belle Reve account has been tagged for liquidation auction. Per the court order, the remaining personal effects are to be cleared within the hour."
"Thank you, Deputy," I nodded.
I walked up the stone driveway. The sound of my boots against the asphalt was the only noise breaking the winter morning.
Evelyn slowly looked up. Her eyes were sunken, dark bruised hollows beneath them. The arrogance that had sustained her for decades was entirely gone, replaced by a pathetic, desperate terror.
"Nora," she rasped, her voice trembling. "Nora, please. You have to tell the federal prosecutors it was an oversight. Tell them it was an intra-family loan. They’re going to send me to Alderson. I can't go to prison, Nora. I’m your mother!"
I stopped four feet from her chair.
"When I was twenty-two," I said, my voice steady, calm, and terrifyingly clear, "my bone was protruding through my uniform. I was in clinical shock. I called you because I was terrified. Do you remember what you said?"
Evelyn swallowed hard, tears leaking down her wrinkled foundation. "Nora, I... I was stressed. Adele had an opportunity—"
"You told me you didn't have the time or the patience for my military whining," I said. "You told me I chose to play in the dirt."
I looked down at the sprawling, eight-thousand-square-foot mansion behind her.
"I bought this house. I bled for every brick, every shingle, every coat of paint. And while I was overseas getting shelled, you were plotting how to take my pension if I came home in a box."
"I was trying to secure our lifestyle!" Evelyn cried out, her voice cracking into a shrill plea. "What was I supposed to do? Your father left us with nothing! Nothing!"
"You were supposed to get a job," I replied coldly. "Like every other capable human being on this earth."
Adele stood up from the steps, her eyes wild, her hair matted. "You ruined everything, Nora! Julian left me! My agency dropped me! Nobody will even look at me! Are you happy now? Did you get your revenge?"
I looked at Adele. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel anger toward her. I didn't feel resentment.
I just felt profound pity.
"You don't understand, Adele," I said quietly. "This isn't revenge. This is just the bill arriving. You spent fourteen years eating off my plate and complaining that the silver wasn't polished enough. Now the meal is over."
The movers began carrying the remaining furniture out of the front foyer.
"Where are we supposed to go?" Adele sobbed, collapsing back onto the cold stone. "We don't have any money! The accounts are frozen! My cards don't work!"
"There’s an extended-stay motel off Interstate 20," Deputy Miller remarked dryly from the bottom of the steps. "Forty-two dollars a night. They have vacancies."
"I can't stay in a motel!" Adele shrieked. "I’m an influencer! I’m Adele Vance!"
"Not anymore," Ethan’s voice cut through the air like a cold blade. He walked up beside me, placing a steady, protective hand on the small of my back. "Now you’re just a defendant in a federal larceny trial. I suggest you pack your bags before the rain starts again."
Evelyn looked at Ethan, then up at me. She saw the total, absolute absence of hesitation in my eyes. She knew, with sickening finality, that the well had run dry forever.
"You're a monster," Evelyn whispered with venomous spite. "A cold, unfeeling monster."
May you like
"No," I replied, turning my back on her as the deputy moved in to secure the front doors with federal seizure locks. "I’m just the pilot who finally cut the dead weight."
***