Chương 7
Richard saw her through the glass wall.
He stood.
Margaret followed his gaze. Her face changed.
Charles opened the door. “What are you doing?”
One attorney rose. “Charles, we were preparing to contact you.”
“At midnight?”
“It is ten forty.”
Charles looked at the document boxes. “Why is Richard here?”
Richard walked toward Savannah but stopped when she stepped back.
“You came,” he said.
“I came with my father.”
“I asked you to come alone because this room is already crowded with people protecting themselves.”
Margaret removed her glasses. “Savannah, sit down.”
“No.”
“Then at least close the door.”
Savannah left it open.
The chief financial officer, Martin Dale, stared at the table. He had attended the wedding with his husband and left before dinner. Now his bow tie hung loose around his neck.
Charles pointed at the boxes. “Are those original board books?”
Martin looked at Margaret.
Charles’s voice sharpened. “I asked you.”
“Yes.”
“Who authorized their removal?”
Richard answered. “No one removed them. We are reviewing them here.”
“Why?”
“To determine what Emily altered.”
Savannah looked at the nearest box. A red file tab read FEBRUARY CONSENTS.
“Open that one,” she said.
Richard’s eyes remained on her. “You are not in a condition to review legal documents.”
“I was in good enough condition to sign them.”
Margaret stood. “Savannah, this posture may feel satisfying, but you are exposing yourself.”
“To what?”
One of the attorneys cleared his throat. “There are potential questions regarding the trust vote and the subsequent board actions.”
“Questions for me?”
“For several parties.”
“Did I vote Emily out?”
The attorney looked toward Margaret.
Savannah laughed softly. “Does anyone in this family answer a question without checking her face?”
Margaret’s cheeks colored. “Your trust voted to accept Emily’s resignation.”
“She did not resign.”
“She signed a separation agreement.”
“Show me.”
Martin reached for the red-tabbed file. Richard placed a hand on it first.
“No documents leave this room,” he said.
Savannah stared at his fingers.
He noticed and removed them.
Martin opened the file. The first page was a written consent removing Emily as president of the expansion division. The signature beneath Emily’s name looked correct at a glance. Savannah had seen that signature on birthday cards, hotel openings, school permission slips, and the note inside the black box.
Then she saw the date.
February twelfth.
Emily had been in Toronto that day, presenting a restoration plan to lenders. Savannah remembered because Richard had taken her to dinner after a bridal fitting and complained that Emily was embarrassing the company by traveling despite being told to rest.
“Is this electronic?” Savannah asked.
Martin shook his head. “Wet signature.”
“Where was it notarized?”
The page listed a notary in Washington.
Savannah took out her phone and found a message from Emily dated February twelfth.
Flight canceled. Snow. Stuck at Pearson. Tell Mom I’ll join the board call remotely.
Beneath it, Savannah had replied with a thumbs-up.
She showed the screen to Charles.
He read the message and looked at Margaret.
Margaret’s expression remained controlled. “Documents can be signed in advance.”
“Was it?” Charles asked.
“I don’t remember the execution sequence.”
Richard leaned against the table. “Emily frequently signed blank signature pages for routine consents.”
Martin looked up. “No, she didn’t.”
Everyone turned toward him.
He swallowed. “Emily prohibited detached signature pages after the Boston refinancing.”
Richard’s voice cooled. “You were not involved in every document she executed.”
“I maintained the board records.”
“And apparently failed to detect alterations.”
Martin loosened his tie further. “I detected them.”
Silence entered the room.
Charles said, “When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Margaret closed her eyes briefly.
Savannah looked from Martin to her mother. “You knew.”
Margaret answered before he could. “Martin brought concerns without proof. We hired outside counsel to review them.”
“Which counsel?” Charles asked.
The two attorneys at the table said nothing.
Martin’s face had turned gray. “I was told the review was privileged.”
Richard folded his arms. “Because it is.”
“Did you speak to Emily?” Savannah asked.
Martin looked embarrassed. “No.”
“Why?”
“I was instructed not to contact a former executive who was threatening litigation.”
“You went to my wedding today.”
He stared at her.
“You danced with my mother,” Savannah continued. “You shook Richard’s hand. You knew the documents might be forged.”
“I did not know about the marriage.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Martin’s husband had given Savannah a porcelain serving bowl at the shower. They had spent twenty minutes discussing whether it was dishwasher-safe.
Martin looked down. “I was afraid.”
The room held that answer differently than it held the others. It was not a defense. It was not even unusual. It was only honest.
Richard pushed away from the table. “This is exactly why we need order. Half-formed suspicions are being treated as fact because Emily staged a spectacle.”
“Rebecca is not half-formed,” Savannah said.
His jaw tightened.
“Where is your divorce decree?”
“My marriage to Rebecca ended years ago.”
“Where is the decree?”
“There were jurisdictional issues.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means legal processes do not always fit into a sentence suitable for social media.”
Savannah moved closer to him. “Did you ever file for divorce?”
He looked at Margaret.
Savannah saw her mother’s surprise.
“No,” Richard said.
The word was quiet.
“Why?”
“Rebecca left.”
“That is not a divorce.”
“She disappeared with my son.”
“Your son.”
“I told you there were parts of my life I did not discuss because they were painful.”
“You told me you had never wanted children.”
“I did not want to lose another one.”
The answer struck with enough precision that Savannah almost believed it. Richard had always known where to place a wound so it looked like intimacy.
“Did Rebecca take him?” she asked.
Richard’s eyes lowered. “She moved without agreement.”
“Did you know where they were?”
“Eventually.”
“Did you support him?”
“That is private.”
“She showed a photograph of you together.”
“From years ago.”
“How old is he now?”
May you like
Richard’s silence lasted too long.
“Eight,” Savannah said. “She said eight.”
