Chương 8
“So are three external drives,” Jonah said.
“Who took them?”
“Leonard left with a box yesterday.”
“Did anyone stop him?”
“He was the controller.”
Daniel photographed the empty docking stations.
Evelyn examined the sign-out log. The last entry was nine days earlier. “Security cameras?”
“Main hall and loading bay. Victor had the office camera removed.”
“When?”
“After Celeste said it made the place feel like a casino.”
“Did she?”
“That’s what he said.”
Daniel wrote it down.
Jonah leaned against a filing cabinet. “You need to understand something.”
Evelyn waited.
“People here don’t trust you.”
“I noticed.”
“They remember you leaving.”
“I was removed from management.”
“They remember Victor saying you walked away.”
“And you believed him?”
Jonah stared at the floor. “Belief’s a strong word.”
“You repeated it.”
His head lifted.
“Marisol told me,” Evelyn said. “After the staff meeting.”
“That was years ago.”
“Yes.”
“I was trying to keep my job.”
“I know.”
He looked as though he would have preferred anger.
Evelyn picked up a paperclip from the desk and set it beside the keyboard. “You don’t owe me a confession. I need to know whether you’ll preserve records and keep the wine alive.”
“The wine doesn’t care who owns the house.”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
“Then start there.”
At noon, Margaret requested a private meeting.
She chose the rose garden, outside the range of the main house cameras and far enough from the winery that employees could not overhear. Evelyn found her seated beneath a pergola in a burgundy blazer, though the day was warm.
Margaret had brought tea in a silver thermos.
It was exactly the sort of impractical object she considered proof of standards.
“You look tired,” Margaret said.
“So do you.”
“I did not sleep.”
“Neither did the internet.”
Margaret poured tea into two small cups. Evelyn declined hers.
“You used to like this blend.”
“I used to smoke occasionally.”
Margaret frowned. “You did not.”
“Exactly.”
A bee moved between late roses. From the winery came the metallic clank of a forklift.
Margaret folded her hands. “Victor will propose a settlement.”
“Through counsel.”
“He does not trust his counsel.”
“He chose his counsel.”
“So did I, and he abandoned me on Tuesday.”
“Arthur is not your lawyer.”
“He has advised the family since before you were born.”
“Then he may finally be tired.”
Margaret looked toward the vines. “Victor believes you intend to sell.”
“We’re conducting a review.”
“He says Northstar contacted your partner.”
“They did.”
“And?”
“We have no agreement.”
“That is not the same as no interest.”
Evelyn watched the bee disappear beneath a petal. “What do you want?”
“For the transfer to be unwound.”
“No.”
“For Victor to remain in the main house until litigation is resolved.”
“That is already the practical situation.”
“For you to guarantee the vineyard will not be sold.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“I have investors and fiduciary duties.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened. “You created those duties.”
“Yes.”
“So you could hide behind them.”
Evelyn leaned back. “Do you remember the promissory note?”
Margaret’s eyes moved to her.
“The one you insisted I accept in the divorce instead of voting equity,” Evelyn said. “You said keeping me in ownership would make future governance impossible.”
“It would have.”
“You told me the note protected me from risk.”
“It did.”
“Victor stopped paying after fourteen months.”
“The company lacked cash.”
“You called my attorney and asked for patience. I agreed. Then you accused me of abandoning the estate.”
Margaret stared at the tea in her cup.
“You do not get to design every structure when it benefits you,” Evelyn said, “and call structure cowardice when it does not.”
“I made mistakes.”
“You made choices.”
“I was trying to preserve a family.”
“You preserved Victor’s opinion of himself.”
Margaret’s face flushed. “You think I did not pay for that?”
“I think other people paid first.”
The older woman set down the cup. Her hand trembled once, then steadied.
“Leonard called me,” she said.
Evelyn’s anger narrowed.
“When?”
“This morning.”
“From where?”
“I do not know.”
“What did he say?”
“He said Victor instructed him to move the accounting backups because the lender might manipulate them.”
“Did he?”
“He would not answer.”
“Give me the number.”
“He called from a private line.”
“Did he ask for anything?”
Margaret hesitated.
“What?”
“He wants the company to honor his severance.”
“He resigned.”
“He believes he was forced.”
“By whom?”
“Circumstances.”
Evelyn stood.
Margaret looked up. “I told you because I want this resolved.”
“You withheld contact with a witness until you needed something.”
“I am speaking to you now.”
“After his devices disappeared.”
“He said the files are safe.”
“Where?”
“He would not say.”
“Did Victor know you spoke?”
“No.”
“Do not contact Leonard again.”
“You cannot order me—”
“I am not ordering you as your daughter-in-law. I am instructing a board member under a litigation hold.”
Margaret rose too quickly and gripped the table.
For one second, Evelyn saw genuine fear.
Not fear of losing the house.
Fear of losing control over the story.
Margaret said, “There is something else.”
Evelyn waited.
“The Blue Cedar transfers began before Hart Capital’s loan.”
“How long before?”
“Several months.”
“You knew?”
“I knew funds were being advanced. Victor said they were predevelopment expenses.”
“From which account?”
“I do not know.”
“You were chair of the board.”
“I signed what Leonard put in front of me.”
The sentence sounded almost identical to Victor’s defense.
Evelyn felt a cold pressure behind her ribs. “How much?”
“Initially? Perhaps six hundred thousand.”
“And afterward?”
Margaret looked down.
“How much?”
“I believe three point eight million.”
The figure in Hart Capital’s records was 2.4.
“Why didn’t you tell us during diligence?”
“I did not know the total then.”
“You knew there were related-party transfers.”
“Victor said they had been reversed.”
“Were they?”
“I thought so.”
“You didn’t ask.”
May you like
Margaret’s head lifted. “Stop saying that as though it is a revelation.”
“Then stop behaving as though not asking is innocence.”
