Chương 14
Amber’s breathing turned shallow.
Garnet said, “Or he sends the client records, the fake invoices, and your messages to every client we have.”
Garnet stared at the phone as though the demand might change if he waited long enough.
“Seventy-five thousand.”
Priya said something on the other end.
He closed his eyes.
“No, don’t touch the note.”
Another pause.
“Yes, disconnect external access if you can do it without destroying logs.”
I looked at him.
He had finally stopped sounding like my son.
He sounded like an owner.
Scared, underprepared, and still responsible for everybody drawing a paycheck from him.
“That’s good,” he said into the phone.
“No, Priya, you’re not in trouble.”
He listened again.
“I know.”
His voice softened.
“I know you were supposed to have today off.”
He turned toward the house.
“I’ll call you back in ten.”
He ended the call.
Amber sat with both hands between her knees.
“What are you going to do?”
Garnet looked at her.
“Not pay him.”
She stood.
“You have to.”
“No.”
“He’ll send everything.”
“He may send it anyway.”
“He said he wouldn’t.”
Garnet stared at her.
“Amber.”
She flinched.
“Right.”
I said, “Daniel will say the same thing.”
Amber turned on me.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know extortion.”
“You know real estate.”
“I know men who think fear is a revenue stream.”
Garnet looked at me.
“Did you ever pay one?”
“Yes.”
That surprised everyone.
Hazel folded her arms.
“You never told me that.”
“It was twenty-six years ago.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I know.”
Garnet asked, “What happened?”
“I paid.”
“And?”
“He asked for more.”
Amber looked away.
I continued.
“The second demand taught me what the first payment should have.”
Garnet nodded slowly.
Hazel said, “What happened after that?”
“I hired a lawyer.”
She stared at me.
“What happened to the man?”
“He lost his leverage.”
“That sounds suspiciously edited.”
“It is.”
For the first time since the mug broke, Garnet smiled.
It lasted less than a second.
Then Daniel’s car pulled into the driveway.
He got out carrying a leather folder and wearing the same jeans from that morning.
He looked at the broken mug, the four of us, and Amber’s SUV.
“I leave you people alone for three hours.”
Nobody answered.
“That bad?”
“Yes,” I said.
Daniel pointed toward the house.
“Inside.”
Amber hesitated.
Daniel noticed.
“You’re Amber?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Daniel Price.”
“I know who you are.”
“Good.”
He opened the front door.
“Then you know I’m not your lawyer.”
She stared at him.
“That matters.”
Her face tightened.
Garnet stepped toward her.
“You should call one.”
Amber looked at him.
“You want me to get a lawyer.”
“I want you to understand that Daniel represents Dad and sometimes my company.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not today.”
Garnet frowned.
“Conflict issues.”
Daniel looked at Amber.
“You need separate counsel.”
Then at Garnet.
“So do you.”
I said, “Daniel.”
“No.”
He pointed at me.
“And you need to stop being the center of this because, astonishingly, you are not.”
Hazel made a sound that might have been a laugh.
Daniel looked toward her.
“You’re enjoying that too much.”
“A little.”
We moved into the kitchen.
For the next hour, the house became something halfway between a family meeting and a disaster office.
Daniel called a lawyer named Rachel Kim who specialized in internal business investigations.
Garnet called the cybersecurity firm he had used after a phishing incident two years earlier.
Priya joined by speakerphone.
Nobody used the word police for the first twenty minutes.
Then Rachel arrived.
She was small, direct, and wore running shoes with a charcoal suit.
She listened without interruption while Garnet described the fake invoices, diverted payments, unauthorized account, altered credentials, and Trevor’s demand.
Amber corrected him twice.
Rachel wrote both corrections down.
When Garnet finished, Rachel looked at Amber.
“Did Trevor ever tell you he still had access to the company network?”
“No.”
“Did you ever knowingly provide him current login credentials?”
“No.”
“Did you give him any device that had saved credentials?”
Amber looked toward the floor.
“What?”
Rachel asked.
“I gave him an old laptop.”
Garnet stared at her.
“When?”
“May.”
“Whose laptop?”
“Mine.”
“Company-issued?”
Amber hesitated.
“Yes.”
Garnet put both hands over his face.
Rachel did not react.
“Was it wiped before you gave it to him?”
“I thought it was.”
“Who wiped it?”
“He said he would.”
Daniel quietly closed his eyes.
Rachel kept writing.
“Why did you give it to him?”
“He said he could recover some old invoice templates.”
Garnet whispered, “Jesus.”
Amber began to cry.
Rachel waited.
Not unkindly.
Just professionally.
When Amber stopped wiping her eyes, Rachel said, “I need you to hear this clearly.”
Amber looked at her.
“You may have committed serious offenses.”
The room went still.
Rachel continued.
“That does not mean every possible offense applies, and I am not your attorney, so I am not advising you.”
Amber nodded weakly.
“But Trevor’s conduct does not erase yours.”
“I know.”
“And yours does not excuse his.”
Amber nodded again.
Rachel turned to Garnet.
“You need to preserve everything and notify appropriate parties based on what the forensic review confirms.”
“My clients?”
“Possibly.”
“Employees?”
“Possibly.”
“Law enforcement?”
“Yes.”
Amber looked at Garnet.
He did not look back.
Rachel said, “The order matters, and we do this carefully.”
Garnet leaned against the kitchen counter.
“What about Monday?”
“What happens Monday?”
“Payroll.”
Rachel looked at him.
“That is a business problem, not my specialty.”
Every face in the room turned toward me.
I hated that they did.
Worse, part of me liked it.
I could solve payroll before lunch.
I had solved problems with money my entire adult life.
I opened my mouth.
Then stopped.
Garnet saw me.
“What?”
“I can help.”
He waited.
“But only if you ask.”
The room became quiet.
Hazel looked at me differently.
Garnet stared at the countertop.
“I need a loan.”
Not a rescue.
Not a gift.
A loan.
May you like
I nodded.
“We can document it today.”
