Chương 13
“You think we’re here to manage them.”
“I think Sterling sends people when Sterling wants a problem to look cleaner.”
Lena’s mouth tightened.
“That’s unfair.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Martin laughed again.
“Good talk.”
Eve pulled out a chair and sat.
Martin looked at her as though the gesture offended him.
“If you think we’re here to polish the layoffs, don’t cooperate.”
Ravi’s head turned toward her.
Lena went still.
Martin stared.
Eve continued.
“Tell your employees not to talk to us.”
“You serious?”
“Yes.”
“Eve,” Lena said quietly.
Eve kept her eyes on Martin.
“If people think we’re gathering quotes for a press release, the interviews are useless.”
Martin folded his arms.
“What do you want instead?”
“The truth.”
“You people always say that.”
“Then make it inconvenient for us.”
Something in his face shifted.
Not trust.
Interest.
Eve opened her notebook.
“Who do employees trust here?”
Martin gave a short, humorless breath.
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Each other.”
“Anyone in management?”
“Depends who you ask.”
“You?”
His expression hardened.
“That’s cute.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
He looked toward the production floor.
After a moment, he named four people.
A line supervisor named Denise Avery.
A maintenance foreman named Calvin Reed.
An engineer named Priya Shah.
A payroll coordinator named Michelle Grant.
“Why them?”
“People go to them when they don’t want something repeated upstairs.”
“That includes you?”
Martin looked back at her.
“Sometimes.”
Eve wrote the names down.
“Who do people not trust?”
His jaw tightened.
“That list is longer.”
“Start somewhere.”
He did.
Most of the names were senior managers.
One was a procurement director named Owen Mercer.
Ravi’s pen paused.
Eve noticed.
“What?”
He turned his laptop toward her.
Owen Mercer appeared on the internal organizational chart.
Director of Strategic Sourcing.
Employed at Westbridge for eleven years.
Eve looked at Martin.
“Was Mercer here when Claire ran operations?”
“Yes.”
“How closely did they work?”
“Very.”
“Did they get along?”
Martin hesitated.
There it was.
The first useful silence.
“Until they didn’t.”
Lena leaned forward.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“That sounds unlikely,” Eve said.
Martin’s eyes narrowed.
“Careful.”
“I’m asking.”
“You’re implying.”
“Fine.”
Eve closed her notebook.
“What did you observe?”
Martin looked through the window again.
“About three months before Claire left, she stopped inviting Owen to certain supplier meetings.”
“Why?”
“She didn’t tell me.”
“Did he object?”
“Of course he did.”
“How?”
“Complained.”
“To you?”
“To anyone who would listen.”
“About what?”
“That she was sick and paranoid.”
The room went quiet.
Eve felt Lena’s attention sharpen beside her.
“Those were his words?”
“More or less.”
“More or less matters.”
Martin sighed.
“He said the medication was making her suspicious.”
“Did you believe him?”
Martin looked down.
That answer arrived before his words.
“At the time, maybe.”
Eve waited.
“Claire could be difficult when she thought someone was lying.”
“What does that mean?”
“She wouldn’t let things go.”
“Did she accuse Mercer of anything?”
“Not in front of me.”
“Did she ask you for records?”
Martin looked at her sharply.
“What kind?”
“You tell me.”
He stared for a moment, then sat across from her.
“Freight invoices.”
Ravi stopped typing.
“When?”
“Late spring.”
“What year?”
“Two years ago.”
“What supplier?”
“Several.”
“Do you remember which?”
Martin rubbed one hand over his jaw.
“Delta Alloy was one.”
Ravi typed quickly.
Eve said, “What did she want with the invoices?”
“She said the landed costs didn’t make sense.”
That phrase matched Adrian’s description too closely to ignore.
“Did you give them to her?”
“Yes.”
“What happened after?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“She went out on medical leave maybe two weeks later.”
“And the invoices?”
“No idea.”
“Were they digital?”
“Some.”
“Paper?”
“Some.”
“Where are the paper copies now?”
Martin gave her a tired look.
“Do you know how many freight invoices this plant generates?”
“No.”
“A lot.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
He gave a reluctant nod.
“Records storage downstairs, unless they were scanned and destroyed.”
“Who would know?”
“Michelle.”
The payroll coordinator.
One of the people employees trusted.
Eve wrote another note.
Lena’s phone vibrated.
She read the screen and stood.
“Celia.”
“I’ll come,” Ravi said.
Eve shook her head.
“Stay.”
Lena left the room.
Martin watched her go.
Then he leaned back in his chair.
“You really don’t work for Sterling?”
“Our agency does.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Eve considered the distinction.
“I’m being paid because Sterling Capital hired us.”
“Then you work for them.”
“Financially, yes.”
“And otherwise?”
“I’m trying to find out why everyone in this building assumes the worst.”
Martin’s mouth tightened.
“Maybe because rich people call cuts efficiency and everybody else calls them unemployment.”
“That explains the layoffs.”
“It explains plenty.”
“Does it explain Claire’s email?”
The change in his face was immediate.
He looked toward the closed door.
Then back at Eve.
“What about it?”
“You received it?”
“Everybody salaried did.”
“What did you think?”
“I thought it was sick.”
“Because someone used her account?”
“Yes.”
“Or because you think the accusation is false?”
Martin did not answer.
Eve felt the room contract around that silence.
“Do you think there was supplier fraud?”
He looked at her carefully.
“I think Claire thought something was wrong.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
“What do you think?”
He rubbed his thumb along a scratch in the table.
“I think people here learned a long time ago not to ask questions unless they can afford the answer.”
“That sounds practiced.”
“It’s experience.”
“Did someone get punished for asking?”
His eyes lifted to hers.
“Claire did.”
Eve went still.
“She got sick.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Before Eve could respond, the door opened.
Lena entered, pale and tense.
“Eve, hallway.”
Martin stood.
“What happened?”
Lena ignored him.
“Now.”
Eve followed her out.
Ravi remained behind with Martin.
The corridor was empty except for a rolling cart stacked with cardboard boxes.
Lena lowered her voice.
“Legal finished the preliminary metadata review on Claire’s account.”
“And?”
“The message wasn’t sent by restoring the account.”
May you like
Eve frowned.
“How, then?”
