Chương 7
“I thought you wanted distance from the company,” Eleanor said.
“I wanted distance from working here.”
“I know that now.”
Claire gave a tired half laugh.
“Apparently we’re both learning things tonight.”
The restroom door opened.
Grant came out.
He had removed his tie.
He looked at Claire, then Eleanor.
“What?”
Claire held his gaze.
“You told me she had memory problems.”
His face went still.
Eleanor watched him decide which version of the truth to use.
“She did.”
Claire stepped back.
Grant raised a hand.
“Not dementia. I never said dementia.”
“You made me think it.”
“I told you what I saw.”
“You told me the board was concerned.”
“They were.”
“Which board members?”
Grant hesitated.
Claire’s face changed.
“Which ones?”
“Paul asked questions.”
“Paul asks questions about everything.”
“He asked me whether Eleanor had a succession plan.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“Claire, she missed meetings. She forgot a lender call. She contradicted numbers she had approved.”
“The numbers were wrong,” Eleanor said.
Grant turned.
“Some of them.”
“You used normal mistakes to create a story.”
“I was worried.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
Eleanor looked at him.
He sounded sincere.
That disturbed her.
“Did you ever suggest I see a doctor?”
Grant frowned.
“What?”
“If you believed my judgment was impaired, did you ever tell me?”
“No.”
“Did you tell Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell board members?”
“A few.”
“Did you tell investors?”
“No.”
He looked away.
Eleanor caught it.
“Grant.”
“No.”
“Peter?”
Silence.
Claire whispered, “Oh my God.”
Grant stood straighter.
“I told Peter there was a succession concern. That is normal diligence.”
“Did you tell him I was impaired?”
“I told him the company had key-person risk around an aging chairwoman.”
Eleanor’s mouth went dry.
There were insults that hurt because they were absurd.
That one hurt because it contained a fact.
She was aging.
She had refused to finish a succession plan.
She had kept too many approvals tied to herself.
Every year she told the board they would address it after the next financing, the next acquisition, the next audit.
Grant had turned her failure into leverage.
He had not invented the weakness.
He had used it.
“You should get some sleep before seven,” Eleanor said.
Grant stared at her.
“That’s it?”
“For tonight.”
“You’re not going to scream at me?”
“No.”
“That might actually be easier.”
“I’m sure.”
He looked at Claire.
“Are you coming with me?”
“To where?”
“The crew room. There are couches.”
Claire hugged her arms around herself.
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
His face tightened.
“I did not do this to hurt you.”
She looked at him for a long time.
“That sentence is becoming a problem for you.”
Grant took his coat from the chair.
Marcus spoke from the doorway.
“Mr. Hayes, I’ll show you which rooms are available.”
Grant glared at him.
“I know the building.”
“Tonight, I’m showing you.”
Grant looked at Eleanor.
“You told him to treat me like this?”
“No.”
Marcus said, “Mrs. Hayes didn’t have to.”
Grant left with him.
Claire remained at the window.
Eleanor began sorting papers.
After a minute Claire said, “What are you doing?”
“Trying to understand what I almost lost.”
“You need sleep.”
“So does everyone.”
“That has never stopped you.”
Eleanor looked at her.
There was no affection in the line, but there was familiarity.
She almost preferred it.
Claire took off her beige coat and draped it over a chair.
“I’m helping.”
They worked without speaking for a while.
The folder contained more than the transfer document.
There were revised voting schedules, Northstar term sheets, a proposed board composition, debt projections, and a draft announcement that had not yet been released.
Claire read the announcement twice.
“Mom.”
Eleanor looked over.
Claire handed it to her.
The headline read:
HAYES AVIATION ANNOUNCES STRATEGIC CAPITAL PARTNERSHIP AND LEADERSHIP TRANSITION.
Eleanor read the first paragraph.
Grant Hayes, President of Hayes Aviation, would become chief executive officer following a “planned transition in which longtime Chairwoman Eleanor Hayes would move to an advisory role.”
Planned.
She read the word again.
Further down, the release thanked Eleanor for “decades of stewardship.”
Past tense dressed as gratitude.
Claire sat beside her.
“Did you agree to any of this?”
“No.”
“When was this drafted?”
The file footer showed a date three days earlier.
Claire’s eyes closed.
“What?”
“Tuesday night he came home at two in the morning. He said he was fixing the Denver budget.”
Eleanor folded the release once.
Not because it needed folding.
Because she needed her hands to do something.
At 2:03 a.m., Marcus returned.
“Grant’s in Crew Room B.”
“Thank you.”
“I also checked the access log you asked about.”
Eleanor looked up.
“There’s more?”
“Your executive card entered the corporate records room at 6:12 this morning.”
“Yes.”
“You said you were in Portland this morning.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“I was.”
Claire turned.
“Then who used your card?”
Eleanor reached instinctively toward the keycard on the table.
The metal felt cold.
“This card?”
“System only records credential ID. That ID is assigned to this card.”
“I had it with me.”
“Are you sure?”
She almost snapped at him.
Then Grant’s accusation about memory returned.
She hated that.
“Yes,” she said more carefully. “It was in my travel wallet.”
Claire looked at the folder.
“Could it have been copied?”
Marcus shook his head.
“Not easily. These cards use encrypted authentication. I’m not saying impossible. I’m saying we shouldn’t assume it.”
“Then what?”
Marcus waited.
Eleanor thought about yesterday.
Portland.
Hotel.
Breakfast with Susan.
A call from Lydia.
Her travel wallet.
Airport security.
The charter flight.
Then she remembered something stupid.
So small she almost laughed.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“Did you still have my old travel wallet after Christmas?”
Claire frowned.
“The red one?”
“Yes.”
“I think so. You gave it to me because the zipper broke.”
“Was my previous executive card inside?”
Claire’s face changed.
“Oh.”
Eleanor stood.
Her knee protested.
“Where is it?”
May you like
“At our house. Maybe.”
Grant and Claire had renovated their study in February. During the move, Claire had taken boxes to temporary storage.
