Chương 11
“Did Pike assign me to payroll?”
“Yes.”
“From the beginning?”
“I checked.”
I closed my eyes.
There was the first decision I had never questioned.
Elliot telling me during the interview that payroll compliance was stable, predictable work for a new mother.
He had smiled when he said predictable.
I had been grateful.
“Anna?”
“He chose my department.”
“Yes.”
“He kept me away from procurement.”
“It looks that way.”
I remembered all the times I had requested cross-functional assignments and been told my expertise was too valuable where I was.
The compliments had worked.
That embarrassed me more than the manipulation.
“I should have noticed.”
“No.”
“You don't have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me innocent because it's convenient.”
“I wasn't.”
“Yes, you were.”
Dominic's voice hardened slightly.
“Fine.”
I waited.
“You noticed what was in front of you.”
The words landed differently.
Not absolution.
A boundary.
“Thank you,” I said.
He didn't respond immediately.
Then, “That might be the first pleasant thing you've said to me.”
“Don't get used to it.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
Serena appeared in the doorway holding two bananas.
She offered me one.
I shook my head.
She peeled it anyway and started eating.
“Anything else?” I asked Dominic.
“Yes.”
His tone changed.
The brief softness disappeared.
“Marco confirmed Cynthia Vale accessed the executive archive fourteen minutes before Pike entered the records floor.”
“So they were together.”
“Likely.”
“Did she leave with him?”
“No.”
“Where is she?”
“At home.”
“You've spoken to her?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don't want her to know what we know.”
I looked at the clock.
12:31 a.m.
“What are you going to do?”
“Call an outside attorney.”
“Not company counsel?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Cynthia administers privileged HR files and Pike has worked with our general counsel for years.”
For once, paranoia sounded like competence.
“Then what?”
“You already called police.”
“For missing company property.”
“Not the rest.”
“No.”
“Why wait?”
“Because I learned about the forgery twelve minutes ago.”
That shut me up.
He continued.
“And because if I'm wrong about the signature, accusing two senior employees of theft and fraud has consequences.”
I hated that too.
Not because he was wrong.
Because being careful felt unbearably slow when Lily slept upstairs.
“You said the signature was yours.”
“It looks like mine.”
“But?”
“My father's office kept wet signatures, scanned signatures, and delegated approval stamps.”
“That seems designed for abuse.”
“It was designed by people who believed loyalty was a control system.”
Serena raised her banana in agreement.
“What about the threat to me?”
Dominic's voice lowered.
“That changes the timeline.”
“How?”
“I want you to make a police report tonight.”
I glanced upstairs.
“I am not dragging Lily into a precinct at one in the morning.”
“You don't have to.”
“I'm not leaving her.”
“Then call.”
“I already called earlier when she was missing.”
“Call again and update the incident.”
I didn't answer.
“Anna.”
“I heard you.”
“Will you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I disliked the relief in his voice.
“Stop sounding responsible.”
Before we hung up, he said, “One more thing.”
“What now?”
“The photo of the agreement signature.”
“What about it?”
“Marco ran it against archived documents Elliot signed around the same period.”
My chest tightened.
“And?”
“The witness signature is genuine.”
I sat down slowly.
“He really signed it.”
“Yes.”
“So he knew exactly what Vincent promised me.”
“Yes.”
“And he knew terminating me required review.”
“Yes.”
“Your review.”
“Yes.”
“Then my termination wasn't just unauthorized.”
“No.”
Dominic's answer came quietly.
“It was designed to bypass the one person the agreement required Pike to notify.”
I looked toward the stairs where Lily had disappeared.
“Why now?”
Dominic was silent long enough that I thought he might evade it.
Then he said, “Because three weeks ago you filed an internal compliance inquiry.”
My skin prickled.
“I file inquiries every month.”
“Not like this one.”
“What inquiry?”
“Harbor Lane Logistics.”
I frowned.
“I didn't.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“Your employee credentials did.”
I stood.
“That is impossible.”
“At 6:18 p.m. on October second.”
“I left work at five thirty.”
“Were you logged in remotely?”
“No.”
“Could anyone use your password?”
“Not unless they knew it.”
“Did you share it?”
“Never.”
“Write it down anywhere?”
“No.”
“Saved browser?”
“Company password manager.”
Serena stopped eating.
“What did the inquiry request?” I asked.
Dominic's answer came carefully.
“Eleven years of payment history.”
My stomach dropped.
“And supporting vendor ownership documents.”
The room felt suddenly very still.
“What happened after the request?”
“It was automatically routed to procurement compliance.”
“And then?”
“Cynthia Vale accessed your personnel file the next morning.”
I gripped the back of the chair.
“Someone used me.”
“Yes.”
“To search for Harbor Lane.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I think someone wanted the request to look like it came from the one employee whose history connected back to Dawson Pike.”
“Who?”
“That is what we need to find out.”
I looked at the agreement again.
For the first time, I stopped seeing Vincent's signature as the important one.
Elliot's was the signature that mattered.
His name proved knowledge.
His actions proved fear.
And somebody else had used mine.
“I’m not meeting you tomorrow,” I said.
Dominic went quiet.
“I’m meeting the attorney.”
“Anna—”
“And I’m giving everything to the police.”
Another pause.
Then, “Good.”
I had expected resistance.
The absence of it steadied me.
“You can be there,” I said.
“Understood.”
“But the letters stay with me.”
“Agreed.”
“And nobody from Moretti Group touches the originals.”
“Agreed.”
Serena raised her eyebrows.
“One more condition,” I said.
“What?”
“You don't fire Cynthia before we know what she did.”
Dominic was silent.
“That may not be your decision.”
“It became my concern when somebody used my credentials and threatened me.”
“You think she'll run.”
“I think if she knows she's caught, we'll learn less.”
He breathed out slowly.
“You were good at forensic work.”
“I was twenty-six and terrified.”
May you like
“Those things aren't mutually exclusive.”
The line echoed something I had once told his father.
