Chapter 3 - FOLLOWING THE PAPER TRAIL
In her secure London command room, Marissa sat surrounded by three computer monitors displaying banking records, property deeds, and corporate filings spanning the last seven years.
Beside her sat Special Agent Sarah Jenkins from the FBI’s Financial Crimes Division, connected via an encrypted video link from Washington.
"Marissa, you were right to ask for a forensic audit," Jenkins said, flipping through a digital spreadsheet. "When Paige said 'our family always believed everything you owned belonged to them,' she wasn't exaggerating. They weren't just asking you for handouts—they were actively siphoning your assets."
Marissa’s eyes narrowed. "What did you find, Sarah?"
"Three years ago, when you were deployed overseas on the Interpol task force, your father used an old, limited power-of-attorney form you signed back in college for student loans," Jenkins explained. "He altered the date and presented it to your secondary bank."
Marissa felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach. "Which account?"
"Your emergency trust reserve—the one set up after your father’s heart surgery scare," Jenkins revealed. "Over thirty-six months, Arthur systematically transferred over $140,000 out of that account into a shell entity named 'Keane Family Holdings LLC'."
Marissa tapped her fingers against the desk, her expression turning to stone. "And where did that money go?"
"Straight into paying off Greg and Paige’s credit cards, financing your parents' luxury cruises, and funding a retainer fee for a shady real estate attorney named Harold Finch."
"Harold Finch?" Marissa repeated the name. "The probate attorney from Richmond?"
"The very same," Jenkins confirmed. "Finch specializes in 'adverse possession' loopholes and squatter transfers. We recovered emails between Finch and your sister from three weeks ago. Finch literally drafted a step-by-step instruction manual for Paige on how to break into your apartment, change the utility bills to her name, and file a fraudulent residential lease claim."
Marissa leaned back in her leather chair, staring at the screen. The betrayal wasn't just impulsive greed; it was an organized, multi-year criminal scheme carried out by the very people who had tucked her into bed as a child.
"They didn't just want a place to live," Marissa said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register. "They were planning to steal the title to the penthouse."
"Exactly," Jenkins agreed. "Finch told them that if Paige lived there for ninety days with children present, Virginia's tenant protection laws would make it nearly impossible to evict her without a multi-year court battle. Meanwhile, Arthur was preparing to file a petition claiming you were mentally unfit due to 'stress from government work,' aiming to place your real estate assets under a family conservatorship."
Marissa let out a sharp, breathless laugh. "A conservatorship? They wanted to commit me to take my home?"
"It’s dark, Marissa," Jenkins acknowledged gently. "They saw your success not as something to be proud of, but as a resource they were unfairly denied. In their minds, you were their lottery ticket."
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Marissa stood up, walking toward the whiteboard where her fugitive investigation notes were mapped out. She picked up a black marker and drew a heavy box around the names: ARTHUR, CAROL, PAIGE, GREG, FINCH.
"Sarah," Marissa said, her tone devoid of all hesitation. "Hand every single scrap of these financial audit files over to AUSA Sterling. Tell him I want full RICO charges filed if applicable. They treated my life like a bank account. Now they’re going to pay the bill."
