Chương 7
A pause.
“Find out what’s true before you decide who deserves punishment.”
The video ended.
Daniel remained seated.
Ruiz closed the laptop.
“What do you want to do?”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“You have choices.”
“My daughter was targeted.”
“Yes.”
“My wife hid evidence from me.”
“Yes.”
“Martin may own part of my company.”
“Possibly.”
“My father may have had something to do with my mother’s death.”
“Possibly.”
“And you're asking what I want to do?”
“I’m asking what you’re going to do first.”
Daniel rubbed his sore hand.
The wall had bruised his knuckles.
He thought of his father.
Jack would have gone after Martin.
Immediately.
Then Victoria.
Then anyone else who knew enough to threaten him.
Daniel looked at the dark laptop.
“Find the woman who brought Sophie downstairs.”
“We have her.”
“Find out who paid her.”
“We’re working on it.”
“What can I do?”
“Go home.”
He almost argued.
Then didn't.
At home, Sophie had built a blanket fort in the living room with her aunt Melissa.
Daniel stood in the doorway.
Melissa looked at his face.
“No.”
“What?”
“Whatever you’re about to tell me, no.”
He nearly smiled.
She had always been able to identify catastrophe by his eyebrows.
“Can Sophie stay with you?”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
Sophie crawled out of the fort.
“Why?”
Daniel crouched.
“Because I have to deal with some things.”
“Martin?”
“Yes.”
“Is he coming here?”
“No.”
He could not guarantee that.
The lie tasted familiar.
He corrected himself.
“I don’t think so. Police are watching the house.”
Sophie studied him.
“Okay.”
“You're not scared?”
“Yes.”
That answer stopped him.
Children did not always need adults to remove fear.
Sometimes they needed adults not to lie about its existence.
Daniel kissed her forehead.
“I am too.”
Melissa heard him.
She looked surprised.
He probably did too.
The next morning, Carter Development’s general counsel called before seven.
There was a problem.
Martin Vale had filed suit.
Not merely against Daniel.
Against Carter Development, its board, Victoria Hale, and the estate of Jack Carter.
The complaint alleged fraudulent transfer, concealment of partnership assets, breach of contract, and conspiracy.
It included enough old documents to make immediate dismissal unlikely.
By nine, reporters were outside the company’s Baltimore office.
By ten, Daniel’s board wanted Victoria temporarily removed as chair.
By eleven, two lenders had called.
By noon, a major client postponed signing a construction agreement worth forty million dollars.
Consequences moved faster than truth.
Daniel sat at the conference table where Victoria had once told him his company was worth saving.
Her chair was empty.
Board member Paul Densmore tapped a printed copy of the lawsuit.
“We need a statement.”
General counsel Rebecca Shaw shook her head.
“We need facts.”
“We need markets not to panic.”
“We’re privately held.”
“Banks have phones, Rebecca.”
Daniel listened.
Nobody agreed.
Good.
For years he had thought competent rooms were rooms where everyone quickly reached consensus.
Rachel used to call that his CEO fantasy.
Real rooms contained frightened people protecting different things.
Paul wanted the company’s reputation.
Rebecca wanted legal defensibility.
The CFO wanted lenders calm.
Two directors wanted Victoria gone.
One wanted Daniel to step aside too.
Daniel wanted to leave and pick Sophie up from Melissa’s.
Instead he stayed.
“What do we know?” he asked.
Rebecca opened a folder.
“We know some documents attached to the complaint appear authentic.”
“Appear?”
“We’re verifying.”
“What if they are?”
“Then Jack Carter concealed partnership obligations during the restructuring.”
“How bad?”
“Potentially very.”
“Company-ending?”
“Potentially.”
Nobody spoke.
Daniel looked around the table.
People avoided his eyes.
He had signed paychecks for some of them for a decade.
Others had joined after the company became respectable enough that nobody asked what had happened before.
“What about Martin?”
Rebecca said, “His ownership claim is complicated.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning your father may have cheated him.”
Paul swore.
Daniel looked at the windows.
Baltimore moved below them.
Traffic.
Delivery vans.
A man on the sidewalk carrying two coffees.
The city had not paused because Daniel’s dead father might have built his legacy on fraud.
“What do we do if the claim is valid?”
Paul stared.
“We fight it.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“It should be.”
Daniel looked at Rebecca.
“If it’s valid?”
“We negotiate.”
“And if the company owes him money?”
“Then the company owes him money.”
Paul leaned forward.
“You cannot be serious.”
Daniel looked at him.
“My daughter was chained to a shopping cart last night because somebody wanted documents connected to this.”
“And you think paying the lunatic fixes that?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Daniel considered it.
“Trying not to become my father.”
Nobody had an answer to that.
At four that afternoon, Ruiz called.
The woman who had approached Sophie had survived.
Her name was Tara Mills.
She had been hired through a temporary-event staffing group but had never actually worked for the hotel. Someone had stolen a legitimate worker’s credentials and sent Tara instructions.
She admitted taking the job because she needed money.
She had not known Sophie was eight until she saw her.
“Why did she still do it?” Daniel asked.
Ruiz sighed.
“Because people make bad decisions for two hundred dollars.”
“Who paid her?”
“We traced the instructions to a prepaid phone.”
“Martin?”
“No proof.”
“What about the drugs?”
“Tara says she took pills afterward because she panicked.”
“Where did she get them?”
“Not relevant yet.”
Daniel rubbed his eyes.
“Did she see whoever hired her?”
“No.”
“Did she hear a voice?”
“No.”
“Anything?”
“She was told one phrase that would make Sophie trust her.”
“Bluebird.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked toward Victoria’s empty office through the glass wall.
“How many people knew that?”
“You gave us the list.”
“Four living.”
“You, Melissa, Victoria, Martin.”
“Yes.”
“Could anyone else have heard it?”
“Of course.”
“Could Rachel have written it somewhere?”
“Yes.”
“Posted it?”
Daniel thought.
Rachel had maintained a private family account online.
Photos.
Birthday posts.
Hospital updates.
Maybe.
May you like
“I’ll check.”
That evening he searched Rachel’s old posts.
