Chương 10
Vivian opened the envelope herself.
Inside were printed emails, financial projections, and a signed investment agreement. One page contained a paragraph highlighted in yellow.
The attorney read silently.
Then she passed it to Pike.
Pike’s eyes moved across the paragraph and lifted toward Elena.
“What?” Elena asked.
Pike placed the document in front of her.
The agreement stated that Ross Strategic Maritime expected privileged strategic guidance through direct family access to senior naval leadership, including an incoming installation commander.
Elena read it twice.
The signature below belonged to Vivian.
The date was four months earlier.
“Did you read this before signing?” Elena asked.
Vivian’s eyes flashed. “I am not stupid.”
“That was not my question.”
“Yes, I read it.”
“And you believed I was advising him?”
“He said you had discussed the company.”
“When?”
“He didn’t give dates.”
“Did you ask me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Vivian looked toward the attorney. “Because I assumed he would not put something like that in writing if it weren’t true.”
Derek’s entire business model existed inside that sentence.
Elena slid the paper back.
“What did he tell you I had said?”
“That the scheduling platform could help large installations reduce maintenance delays.”
“I have never seen the platform.”
Vivian’s face changed.
Not dramatically. Her lips parted and remained that way for a second. Then she closed them.
“He showed me notes,” she said.
“What notes?”
“From a conversation.”
“With me?”
“He said so.”
The attorney leaned forward. “Do you still have them?”
Vivian removed another page.
The handwriting was Derek’s. Elena recognized the broad capitals, the slanted numbers.
E.R. thinks readiness dashboard is strong. Says bases need predictive scheduling. Can facilitate pilot after transition.
Elena felt heat rise beneath her collar.
Hayes stared at the note.
Pike said, “That is explicit.”
Vivian looked at Elena. “You didn’t say this?”
“No.”
“Not in different words?”
“I have never discussed predictive scheduling with Derek.”
“He said you spoke after your father’s funeral.”
“At the funeral, he asked whether I knew anyone seeking warehouse software. I told him no.”
Vivian lowered her eyes.
The attorney began sorting the documents into separate piles.
“Mrs. Ross, these materials may be relevant to possible fraud claims and to the command’s review. We will need copies. You should retain originals and obtain independent counsel.”
Vivian nodded, though it was unclear whether she heard.
Elena watched her mother’s hands.
They rested on the table, palms down. The nails were neatly polished. A small brown age spot near the left thumb looked darker under the fluorescent light.
Those hands had buttoned Elena’s first school uniform. They had also pushed the damaged car keys toward her across a kitchen counter.
“Did Derek know the money came from the house?” Elena asked.
“Yes.”
“Did he know how much equity remained?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you the company owed nearly two million?”
Vivian looked up sharply.
So Derek had not told her that part.
“No.”
Elena regretted the question as soon as the answer appeared on her mother’s face.
Not because Vivian did not need the truth.
Because Elena had delivered it as a weapon.
The attorney stopped sorting.
“Mrs. Ross, I strongly recommend that you make no further financial transfers.”
Vivian gave a small, brittle laugh. “There is nothing further.”
She gathered the empty envelope.
Elena said, “Mother.”
Vivian stood.
“I need to go.”
“I can have someone drive you.”
“I know how cars work.”
The old sharpness returned, but there was no force behind it.
Elena stood too.
“Do not confront Derek alone about the documents.”
Vivian looked at her.
“Why? Is he dangerous now?”
“I don’t know what he is under pressure.”
“He is my son.”
“So you will underestimate him.”
The words stopped Vivian at the door.
She turned slowly.
“And what am I to you?”
Elena could have said mother.
The answer should have been easy.
Instead, thirty years crowded into the space: the car keys, the loans, the missed calls, the funeral brochure, the slap against the glass.
“You are someone I keep trying not to lose,” Elena said.
Vivian’s face folded for one brief second—not into tears, but into fatigue.
Then she left.
Derek disappeared before investigators could schedule a second interview.
He checked out of the hotel at six-thirty that evening. His phone remained on for another hour, moving west along the highway, then went dark near Richmond.
Vivian called Elena at eight-twelve.
“He isn’t answering.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“No.”
“Did he take his laptop?”
“Yes.”
“Documents?”
“I don’t know.”
“Vehicle?”
“Rental.”
Elena stood in her office, looking down at the parking lot. Rain had begun, thin and steady, streaking the glass.
“Call local police if you believe he may harm himself.”
Vivian’s breathing changed.
“Do you?”
“I’m asking what he said.”
“He said everyone had decided he was a criminal. He said there was no point explaining.”
“Did he mention hurting himself?”
“No.”
“Giving things away? Saying goodbye?”
“No.”
“He may be avoiding counsel.”
“That is what you think of him.”
“It is one possibility.”
“You’re so calm.”
“No, I’m useful.”
The answer came out harder than Elena intended.
Vivian went silent.
Elena closed her eyes.
“I will ask security to preserve the visitor information and provide it to investigators through proper channels.”
“You can track him.”
“I cannot use military resources to locate my brother for a private family concern.”
“He has evidence related to your command.”
“Then civilian authorities handling the review can act.”
“You’re hiding behind rules again.”
“I’m keeping you from asking me to abuse them.”
Vivian exhaled shakily.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Call him once. Leave a message that does not accuse him. Tell him you are worried and want confirmation that he is safe. Then contact the attorney whose number counsel gave you.”
“He won’t speak to a lawyer.”
“The lawyer is for you.”
“I don’t need—”
“You mortgaged your house based on false statements. You need one.”
May you like
Vivian did not answer.
Elena softened her voice.
