Chương 7
Meridian Strategic Holdings LLC.
My pulse changed.
I zoomed in.
The image blurred.
Below the company name was a partial address.
Wilmington, Delaware.
Nothing else.
It proved only that Jason had seen the name months before.
That was still more than he had told his CFO.
I took a screenshot, then stopped.
A screenshot of a screenshot felt absurdly fragile.
I preserved the original message thread and sent nothing.
At 1:31, Leah called again.
“You’re awake.”
“So are you.”
“I bill more.”
“What did you find?”
“Corporate registration.”
I stood and carried the phone toward the living room so I would not wake Mom.
“Meridian Strategic Holdings was formed eight months ago in Delaware.”
“Owner?”
“Not publicly listed in the basic filing.”
“Registered agent?”
“A commercial service.”
“Manager?”
“Also not listed.”
“So nothing.”
“Not nothing.”
Her keyboard clicked in the background.
“The company opened an account at Hudson State shortly after formation.”
“How do we know that?”
“The syndicate agent obtained beneficiary details from the transfer instruction.”
“That doesn’t tell us ownership.”
“No.”
I lowered my voice.
“I found a personal photo Jason sent me seven months ago.”
“What’s in it?”
“The company name on a document.”
Leah stopped typing.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Preserve the original.”
“I did.”
“Don’t send it around.”
“I won’t.”
There was another pause.
Then she said, “Rachel found something too.”
I leaned against the wall.
“What?”
“A board package from four months ago included a proposed acquisition target.”
My stomach tightened.
“What target?”
“Northline Freight Systems.”
I knew the name.
A small regional logistics software company outside Philadelphia.
Cole Meridian had discussed buying it the previous year, then Jason told me the deal died over valuation.
“What does that have to do with Meridian Strategic Holdings?”
“The acquisition proposal was withdrawn.”
“I know.”
“Two weeks later, Northline sold certain software assets to a private holding company.”
I already knew the answer before she said it.
“Meridian Strategic.”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“And now Jason transferred seventeen million dollars there.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“We don’t know.”
“Who controls Northline now?”
“Still checking.”
The couch sat five feet away, but I remained standing.
A thought had begun taking shape that I did not like.
“Leah, if Jason used a separate company to buy an asset Cole Meridian had been evaluating—”
“Don’t finish that sentence yet.”
“Right.”
“We need documents.”
“Right.”
“And we need to know whether the Cole Meridian board knew.”
“Rachel didn’t.”
“Rachel is CFO, not the entire board.”
“I know.”
“Go to sleep.”
I looked toward the dark hallway.
“Not happening.”
“Then do something harmless.”
“Define harmless.”
“Laundry.”
“I’m at my mother’s apartment.”
“Excellent.”
“She’ll know if I fold things wrong.”
“Then you finally have a problem with manageable stakes.”
I smiled faintly.
“Good night, Leah.”
“Isabella.”
“What?”
“Whatever this is, don’t let tonight turn it into the answer you already want.”
The smile disappeared.
“What answer do you think I want?”
“That he deserves everything you’re about to discover.”
I said nothing.
Leah did not press.
“Morning,” she said, and hung up.
At 7:06, after perhaps two hours of sleep on the couch, I woke to the smell of coffee.
Mom stood in the kitchen wearing her robe, her bandage slightly crooked.
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“I rested.”
“For how long?”
“Enough.”
“That is not a medical unit.”
She poured coffee into my father’s old chipped mug.
I had forgotten she still owned it.
The words WORLD’S OKAYEST DAD were almost completely worn away.
She set it in front of me.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
My phone rang.
Rachel Chen.
I answered immediately.
Her voice sounded scraped raw.
“Isabella, I need to tell you something before the board meeting.”
I straightened.
“What?”
“I lied to Daniel last night.”
Mom stopped buttering toast.
Rachel inhaled shakily.
“I knew Meridian Strategic Holdings existed.”
My hand tightened around the mug.
“Why did you say you didn’t?”
“Because Jason told me if anyone asked, I was supposed to say exactly that.”
“Rachel.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“I do.”
Her voice cracked.
“I’ve known about it for six months.”
I stood.
“Known what?”
There was a long silence.
Then she said, “Jason owns it.”
For several seconds, I heard only the soft hiss of my mother’s toaster.
“Say that again.”
Rachel’s breathing was uneven.
“Jason owns Meridian Strategic Holdings.”
My mother lowered the butter knife onto the counter.
I walked into the living room and shut the kitchen door behind me, though there was no real privacy to gain in a one-bedroom apartment.
“How do you know?”
“I saw the operating agreement.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Why?”
“Because I was asked to sign a certification for the Northline transaction.”
I pressed my fingers against my temple.
“What certification?”
“That Cole Meridian had no continuing claim on the software assets.”
“And did it?”
Another pause.
“We had spent four months evaluating them.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I know.”
“Rachel.”
“We had a nonbinding letter of intent.”
My stomach dropped.
“Signed?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“Jason.”
“Then why was the acquisition abandoned?”
“He said the seller raised the price.”
“Did they?”
“I never saw a revised term sheet.”
I stared at the faded floral wallpaper above my mother’s couch.
A tiny crack ran from the corner of the window to the ceiling.
“Walk me through it from the beginning.”
“I can’t do this over the phone.”
“Then where are you?”
“The office.”
“Stay there.”
“No.”
The fear in her voice sharpened the word.
I stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“Jason came in twenty minutes ago.”
“Is he there now?”
“He left.”
“Why?”
“He wanted access to my files.”
“What files?”
“The Northline diligence folder and the borrowing records.”
“Did you give them to him?”
“I told him legal had placed a hold on document destruction and that everything had to remain preserved.”
“That was smart.”
“He didn’t think so.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
That answer came too fast.
May you like
“Rachel.”
“He knocked a coffee mug off my desk.”
