Chương 7
“Reasonable.”
“He also wants you present.”
“I cannot represent him.”
“He knows.”
“Then why?”
“He says you are the only person who can identify which records matter.”
Helena rubbed her eyes. “Independent investigators can do that.”
“He does not trust them.”
“He should not trust me either.”
Rachel was quiet for a moment.
“He may be ahead of you there.”
The next morning, Helena received formal notice that the state disciplinary authority had opened a preliminary inquiry into her conduct. The complaint alleged conflicts of interest, misuse of confidential information, and threats to expose privileged communications for personal leverage.
The complainant’s name was Adrian Locke.
The complaint included selected emails. In one, Helena had written to Adrian: If the board refuses a full investigation, I will have no choice but to take steps outside the current reporting structure. Another read: You cannot assume privilege will shield conduct merely because counsel was copied.
Removed from context, the messages looked like threats.
The originals remained on company servers she could no longer access.
Her own copies were subject to preservation restrictions.
Mara found Helena at the dining table reading the complaint for the third time.
“Can they take your license?”
“Eventually, if they find serious misconduct.”
“Did you do what he says?”
“No.”
“Did you do anything close enough to make this difficult?”
Helena looked at the page.
“Yes.”
Mara pulled out a chair.
“How close?”
“I received information from employees who may have believed I represented them individually. I told them I represented the company, but perhaps not clearly enough. I pushed the board to act. Adrian says I used confidential information to pressure him.”
“Did you?”
“I used what I knew to argue that he should not remain chief executive.”
“That sounds like your job.”
“It was. Until my judgment became part of the problem.”
Mara read the first page, then set it down.
“You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The one where you turn yourself into the worst person in the room because it saves time.”
Helena leaned back.
“That is not a thing.”
“You did it when Mom went to rehab. You decided you had been cruel for making her go, so no one else could surprise you by saying it.”
“I had been cruel.”
“You hid her car keys.”
“She was drunk.”
“You told her you would call the police.”
“I meant it.”
“She hated you for six months.”
“Eleven.”
Mara pushed the complaint away. “Being right does not make everything you did right. Being wrong does not make everything he did reasonable.”
Helena looked at the thin blue veins on her sister’s wrist. Mara had been thirteen when Helena left for college. Their father worked nights. Their mother’s drinking worsened. Helena called every Sunday and believed that counted as staying.
“You should have told me it was eleven months,” Helena said.
“I did.”
“No, about Mom. Back then.”
“I was thirteen. I thought you knew things.”
Helena turned her face toward the window.
Outside, the security officer walked slowly along the sidewalk, speaking into his collar. A woman pushing a stroller crossed the street to avoid him.
Mara folded the complaint into thirds, though it had arrived unfolded.
“Are you going to help Mateo?”
“Yes.”
“Can that hurt you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to do it anyway?”
Helena touched the edge of the table.
“Yes.”
The meeting with Mateo took place in a borrowed conference room above a community bank. Rachel Sloane sat beside him. Martin Vale attended for the independent investigation. Dana remained near the door. Helena entered last and stopped when she saw Mateo.
He had lost weight since their previous meeting. His dark hair was uncombed, and there was a small milk stain on the shoulder of his sweatshirt, probably from his daughter. He did not stand.
“Ms. Graves.”
“Mateo.”
Martin began by explaining roles. He represented the board’s special committee. Rachel represented Mateo. Helena represented no one and was present only as a factual resource. No statement would guarantee employment, immunity, or a particular outcome.
Mateo listened with his arms folded.
When Martin finished, Mateo said, “So everyone is protected except me.”
Rachel touched her pen to the pad. “That is why we are here.”
Mateo placed a small metal key on the table.
“The drive is in a storage unit.”
Martin asked, “Under whose name?”
“My cousin’s.”
“Does your cousin know?”
“No.”
“Has anyone accessed it since you placed it there?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I changed the lock.”
Martin looked at the key. “You understand we need a documented transfer. We cannot simply send someone to collect it.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
Helena watched Mateo’s jaw. He was not being difficult because he misunderstood. He understood that procedure had protected the company longer than it had protected him.
Rachel said, “My client wants written assurance that Locke Meridian will not terminate him for preserving records.”
Martin replied, “The committee can recommend that.”
“Recommendation is not assurance.”
“I cannot bind the full board.”
“Then bring someone who can.”
Martin removed his glasses and cleaned them with a cloth. “Mr. Ruiz may have copied proprietary systems without authorization.”
Mateo laughed once.
“There it is.”
Rachel raised a hand before he continued.
Helena said, “Martin, the board issued a preservation directive eight months ago.”
“Yes.”
“If operational records were being altered or deleted, Mateo’s copy may have preserved material the company was legally obligated to retain.”
“May have.”
“Then threatening him over access before reviewing the circumstances is unwise.”
Martin looked at her. “You are here as a factual resource.”
“That was a fact.”
“No, that was advice.”
“Old habits.”
Mateo’s expression shifted. Not trust, exactly. A slight reduction in hostility.
May you like
After two hours, the committee agreed to place Mateo on paid administrative leave, preserve his benefits, pay reasonable legal fees, and prohibit retaliation while the evidence was reviewed. It was less than he wanted and more than Martin had intended to offer.
Rachel placed the agreement in front of Mateo.
