Chương 7
“You said documented grounds.”
“Yes.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
“To make sure we do this correctly.”
Marcus scrolled farther.
“There’s another issue.”
“What?”
“Jenna transferred to Louisville last month.”
I looked at him.
“I didn’t approve that.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Why did she transfer?”
“She requested it.”
Rebecca’s expression had gone hard.
“After her supervisor told her it would be easier than creating trouble with the owner’s family.”
For several seconds, the room became very quiet.
I looked through the wall at Sophie again.
She had stopped laughing.
Her headphones were still on, but she was staring down at her screen without typing.
I thought of every time I had told myself silence kept the peace.
Every dinner where I let Martin insult me.
Every warning I softened.
Every manager who had watched which rules bent and learned from it.
I had called it protecting my marriage.
Other people had paid for it.
“Call Jenna.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Not today.”
“Why not?”
“It’s Christmas.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
“She may not want to talk to you.”
“She doesn’t have to.”
That came out sharper than I intended.
I lowered my voice.
“She doesn’t owe me a conversation.”
Rebecca nodded once.
“That’s a better place to start.”
I looked down at Nathan’s file.
“What happens with the eleven?”
Marcus opened a clean document.
“We verify each file individually this morning.”
“And if the evidence holds?”
Rebecca answered.
“Termination notices go out after counsel review.”
“All eleven?”
“If justified.”
I looked at the list again.
Eleven names.
Not forty-seven.
A few hours earlier, that would have felt insufficient.
Now it felt heavier.
“Do it.”
Marcus did not move.
“You mean review them.”
“Yes.”
“Not fire them.”
“Review them.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
I hated needing the correction.
We worked for three hours.
By noon, nine cases remained clearly supportable.
Two became less certain after missing supervisor notes surfaced.
The clean revenge I had imagined in the middle of the night dissolved into something slower and less satisfying.
It was also more honest.
Eric remained on the termination list.
Nathan remained on it.
Brandon remained on it.
Six others did too.
Martin did not.
That bothered me.
Rebecca noticed.
“You keep looking at his name.”
“I know.”
“You want him gone.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t evidence.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
At twelve twenty, Sophie knocked on the glass.
I waved her in.
She opened the door.
“There’s a woman downstairs.”
“Who?”
“She said her name is Claire.”
Marcus muttered something under his breath.
Rebecca looked at me.
“Did you tell her you were here?”
“No.”
Sophie shoved her hands into the pockets of my jacket.
“She brought Grandpa.”
My chair stopped moving.
Marcus closed his laptop.
Rebecca capped her pen.
Sophie looked at me.
“What do you want me to do?”
I stood.
For the first time since the snow-covered porch, I did not feel the urge to kick open anything.
“Stay here.”
She studied my face.
“No eyebrow.”
“What?”
“The thing is gone.”
I almost smiled.
Then the elevator bell sounded in the lobby.
Martin’s voice followed a second later.
“Where the hell is Whitaker?”
Marcus looked toward the door.
Rebecca looked at me.
I picked up the nine verified files and set them facedown on my desk.
Then I walked out to meet the man who still believed he worked for people I had never met.
Martin stopped in the middle of the lobby when he saw me.
He was wearing the same charcoal trousers from the night before, but the Christmas sweater had been replaced by a camel-colored coat that made him look as if he had dressed for a board meeting he had not been invited to.
Claire stood two steps behind him.
Her hair was pulled back carelessly, and she had no makeup on.
She looked tired enough that, for one disorienting second, I almost forgot why we were there.
Then Martin pointed at me.
“What is this?”
I looked around the lobby.
“What is what?”
“This place.”
“Our headquarters.”
He gave an irritated laugh.
“I know what building I’m standing in.”
“Then I’m not sure what you’re asking.”
Claire said my name quietly.
Martin ignored her.
“The receptionist says you have an executive office upstairs.”
“There’s no receptionist today.”
“The security guy.”
“Facilities supervisor.”
Martin’s jaw tightened.
“Whatever.”
He stepped closer.
“Why are you here?”
“Working.”
“On Christmas?”
“Yes.”
He looked past me toward the glass corridor.
“And why did security tell me I needed your permission to come upstairs?”
There it was.
The first loose thread.
Claire looked at me.
She knew exactly what was happening.
I could see it in the way she pressed her lips together.
Martin did not.
Not yet.
“Because the executive floor is restricted.”
He frowned.
“What does that have to do with you?”
Behind me, the office door opened.
Marcus walked into the corridor carrying a folder.
He saw Martin and stopped.
Martin recognized him immediately.
“Hill.”
“Mr. Collins.”
Martin pointed toward me without taking his eyes off Marcus.
“Why is he up here?”
Marcus looked at me.
It was not a dramatic glance.
It was worse than that.
It was the ordinary reflex of an employee looking toward the person with final authority.
Martin noticed.
His expression changed by a fraction.
Claire stepped forward.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“We should go somewhere private.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“I asked a simple question.”
I said, “Come into the conference room.”
Martin laughed.
“You’re inviting me into my own company’s conference room now?”
Marcus’s eyebrows moved.
I caught his eye.
He said nothing.
Claire closed her eyes briefly.
“Dad, stop.”
Martin turned on her.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve been acting insane since last night.”
“I’m trying to keep you from making this worse.”
He stared at her.
Then he looked at me again.
“Making what worse?”
The elevator opened behind them.
Rebecca stepped out carrying her phone and another file.
She stopped when she saw the group.
May you like
Martin knew her too.
Every senior manager in the company knew him.
