Chương 11
She stood when she saw me.
The smug woman from the photographs was gone.
“Clarissa.”
I stopped several feet away.
“What do you want?”
Her eyes filled.
I felt nothing.
Then she said, “Julian is going to blame all of this on me.”
And for the first time that night, I believed her.
Chloe’s hands were shaking badly enough that the diamonds at her throat trembled with them.
I glanced at the document cases.
“What’s in those?”
She looked toward the security employees.
“Can we talk somewhere else?”
“No.”
Her eyes snapped back to mine.
“Clarissa, please.”
The word sounded strange coming from her.
An hour ago, she had sent me a photograph designed to wound me.
Now she looked as if she might be sick.
I folded my arms.
“You wanted me to know you were with my husband.”
Her face tightened.
“I was angry.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
She looked down at the cases.
“Copies of the Helix agreements.”
“Why did you take them?”
“Because I need proof.”
“Of what?”
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
One of the guards shifted his weight.
Lena stepped a little farther away, giving us the appearance of privacy without actually granting it.
Chloe lowered her voice.
“Julian has been moving responsibility onto me for weeks.”
“Responsibility for what?”
“The filings.”
“What filings?”
“The transfer approvals.”
I stared at her.
“You just heard him admit he owns Helix.”
“I knew he controlled it.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
She swallowed.
“He told me outside investors controlled the majority.”
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
She looked away.
“That got complicated.”
I almost laughed.
“Everything seems to get complicated when Julian explains it.”
A flicker of shame crossed her face.
I hated myself for enjoying it.
“What did you sign?” I asked.
“Board consents.”
“For Cross Meridian?”
“Some.”
“And Helix?”
“Some.”
“Were you authorized?”
“Yes.”
“Were they legitimate?”
She pressed her lips together.
“That depends on what you mean.”
“That is never a promising answer.”
Her shoulders dropped.
“Julian said the transfers had been approved by counsel.”
“Which counsel?”
“Internal.”
“Name.”
“Stephen Kline.”
I knew the name from holiday parties.
Cross Meridian’s general counsel.
Quiet man.
Gray beard.
Always left early because his wife hated corporate events.
“Did Kline approve them?”
“I don’t know.”
“You signed documents stating he did?”
Chloe’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
I felt anger rise, but it had nowhere clean to go.
She was not innocent.
Neither was Julian.
The company employees certainly were.
“You’re telling me you signed board and transaction documents without confirming legal approval.”
“He was the CEO.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I know.”
Her voice broke.
“I know that now.”
For a moment, the lobby was filled with ordinary hotel sounds.
A luggage cart squeaked across marble.
A family came through the revolving doors arguing quietly about parking.
Somewhere behind the closed restaurant, silverware clattered into a bin.
Chloe rubbed her palms over her gown.
“He said if we could get the assets moved temporarily, Helix could raise bridge financing against them.”
“And then?”
“We’d refinance Cross Meridian.”
“Before the lenders noticed.”
“Yes.”
“That was the plan?”
“The plan was to save the company.”
I looked at her.
“Illegal things always sound better when people call them plans.”
She flinched.
“That’s not fair.”
“No?”
“I didn’t create this.”
“You participated.”
“I was trying to protect four thousand jobs.”
“And your bonus?”
Her face changed.
There it was.
Not guilt exactly.
Exposure.
“How much?” I asked.
“That isn’t relevant.”
“It became relevant the second you tried to make yourself sound altruistic.”
She looked toward the elevators.
“Two hundred thousand if the restructuring closed.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For making it human.”
She frowned.
“You wanted the money.”
“Yes.”
“And the promotion?”
“Yes.”
“And Julian?”
That hit differently.
Her face hardened.
“Don’t.”
“You came to my house wearing jewelry he bought you.”
“I know what I did.”
“Do you?”
Her voice dropped.
“He told me your marriage was over.”
The sentence was so predictable that I almost felt disappointed.
“Of course he did.”
“He said you barely spoke.”
“We spoke.”
“He said you slept separately.”
“We did.”
That answer hurt more than denying it would have.
Chloe looked at me carefully.
“He said you were only staying because of the house.”
I stared at her.
“The house belonged to his parents.”
“I know.”
“Then that should have sounded stupid.”
“It did later.”
“Later.”
She nodded.
“I wasn’t looking very hard at the parts that didn’t make sense.”
That, at least, sounded true.
I looked at the cases again.
“Why leave now?”
Her fear returned.
“Because Everett’s message came through to Julian’s phone.”
“You saw it?”
“I saw his face.”
“That was enough?”
“No.”
She looked toward Lena.
“Then his assistant texted me.”
“What did the assistant say?”
“That outside counsel had contacted Stephen Kline.”
I felt something shift.
“And?”
“Stephen resigned two hours ago.”
I stared at her.
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Julian knows?”
“I think so.”
“Why didn’t he mention it?”
“Because Stephen didn’t just resign.”
She swallowed.
“He sent a preservation notice to the board.”
The phrase landed hard.
Preservation notices meant documents.
Emails.
Devices.
Records no one was supposed to delete or alter.
“What did it cover?”
“Helix.”
I exhaled slowly.
“And you took these because?”
“Because some of the copies in Julian’s possession don’t match the versions I signed.”
That was the first thing she said that made the entire lobby seem quieter.
“What doesn’t match?”
“Dates.”
“Anything else?”
“Approval lines.”
My voice lowered.
“What approval lines?”
“Stephen’s.”
I looked at her.
She nodded once.
“His name appears on documents I never saw him sign.”
“Are you saying the signature is forged?”
“I’m saying I don’t know.”
“Did you ask him?”
“He won’t take my calls.”
“Did you ask Julian?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“That I was panicking.”
My stomach tightened.
That sounded familiar.
Unstable.
Jealous.
Overreacting.
Different context.
Same tool.
“How many documents?”
May you like
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough.”
