Chapter 8 - The Desperate Strike
With Gregory Thorne in custody and Parker arrested at his office, the media storm erupted by late afternoon. News of the million-dollar fraud ring at Thorne & Associates dominated local broadcasts.
Clarissa spent the afternoon at her lawyer’s office, signing dozens of documents. Because the fraud was caught in real-time and backed by mountain of digital evidence, the court issued an immediate emergency order freezing all assets associated with Parker, Alana, Ellie, and Gregory.
The three secondary mortgages were declared null and void due to fraudulent notary certification, saving Clarissa’s real estate portfolio from liquidation. The three hundred thousand dollars stolen from Dustin’s trust was traced to a holding account in Miami and formally frozen pending transfer back to the Vance Trust.
By 6:00 PM, Parker was released on a temporary fifty-thousand-dollar bail, funded by his desperate sister, Ellie, who had pawned her jewelry to scrape together the ten percent bond fee.
Clarissa was at her city apartment, packing up the remainder of Parker’s belongings into black trash bags to be picked up by his attorney.
The door lock buzzed.
Clarissa checked the security monitor mounted on the wall. Parker was standing in the hallway outside her apartment door.
He looked ruined. His suit was wrinkled, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was shaking uncontrollably.
Clarissa pressed the intercom button. “Leave, Parker. Your lawyer was told your clothes would be delivered to his office tomorrow.”
“Clarissa, please open the door!” Parker begged, banging his fist against the heavy steel door. “I have nowhere to go! My accounts are frozen! The firm fired me this afternoon! My mother was evicted from her apartment because the lease was under the shell company!”
“That’s not my problem, Parker,” Clarissa said coldly through the speaker. “You made your choices.”
“I did it for us!” Parker cried out, his voice cracking into a desperate, pathetic whine. “I felt inadequate, Clarissa! You were always the successful one! You had your father’s trust, your high salary, your fancy reputation! I wanted to build an empire of my own so you’d respect me!”
Clarissa let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You stole from a seven-year-old boy because of your ego? You let your mother abuse my child because you felt inadequate?”
“He’s not my son!” Parker spat, his temper suddenly flaring through his desperate facade. “He was never my son! Why should I care about a kid who reminded me every single day that you loved someone else before you met me?!”
The ugliness of his true nature was fully exposed. Clarissa felt no anger left for him—only a deep, profound pity for how small and wretched he truly was.
“The police are on their way, Parker,” she said quietly. “You’re violating the temporary restraining order. You have two minutes to leave this building before you’re sent back to a cell.”
Parker slammed his fist against the door one last time, letting out a primal scream of frustration, before the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway.
Clarissa walked over to the window, watching the city lights flicker below. She pulled out her phone and called Sarah.
“Sarah? How is Dustin doing?”
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“He’s great, Clarissa,” Sarah’s warm voice answered. “He’s sitting on the dock right now, catching little sunfish with a bamboo pole. He ate three hot dogs for dinner and hasn't mentioned his grandmother once.”
Clarissa closed her eyes, tears of relief spilling down her cheeks. “I’m on my way.”
