Chapter 7 - Federal Credentials and Cold Realities
Two men in dark suits stepped briskly across our threshold. The lead agent—tall, sharp-faced, with piercing gray eyes and a heavy leather shoulder holster visible beneath his jacket—flashed a leather-bound badge before Mark could even speak.
“Special Agent Miller, FBI White-Collar Crime Division,” the man said smoothly, his voice flat and professional. “Are you Mark R. Miller?”
“Yes,” Mark answered, his voice remarkably steady considering the circumstances. “What is this about?”
“We have an active federal warrant for questioning regarding the corporate asset embezzlement investigation at Apex Logistics,” Agent Miller said, stepping further into the foyer. “We tracked a series of encrypted cryptocurrency transfers and shell-company shell accounts linked directly to your secondary IP address. We need to examine your home office and all digital storage media immediately.”
From my vantage point at the top of the stairs, the room started spinning.
Apex Logistics. That was Mark’s employer. The multi-million-dollar supply chain corporation where he had worked as a senior financial analyst for the past five years.
“My office is upstairs,” Mark said quietly, glancing up the staircase and locking eyes with me for a fraction of a second. “My wife is up there. Let me handle her, and I’ll give you full access to the workspace.”
Agent Miller followed Mark’s gaze upward, spotting me standing in the hallway. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Ma’am, please come down the stairs where we can see you.”
I descended the steps slowly, my legs feeling like lead weights. My mind was racing backward, connecting dots I had been too blind to see. The late nights at the office. The "corporate restructuring" phone calls. The burner phone, the expensive earrings, the sudden influx of cash we had used to pay off our car loans six months ahead of schedule.
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He hadn't just been cheating on me with a mysterious woman who left hair in his car exhaust.
He had been stealing millions.
