Chương 5
Cream furniture.
Soft recessed lighting.
Marble polished to a warm glow.
Night windows stretching from floor to ceiling.
Fresh orchids replaced every Thursday.
A hidden medical panel behind walnut cabinetry so recovering clients did not have to feel like patients.
It was one of Madison’s favorite spaces in the company.
Now a crime-scene technician photographed the vanity.
Another dusted the records-room keypad.
The cream sofa was suddenly just furniture people had to walk around in blue gloves.
Bishop asked Madison to identify documents found in the records room.
Most were ordinary.
Vendor bills.
Blank guest intake forms.
A printed medication log.
Then came the continuity addendum.
Madison recognized the copy immediately.
Her initials appeared at the bottom of each page.
She had not initialed them.
The signature page bore her signature.
She had not signed that either.
“What’s different?” Bishop asked.
Madison read.
The legitimate version transferred temporary voting authority to Vanessa only if Madison was certified incapacitated by two independent physicians or confirmed dead.
This version required one physician.
And it included a new clause.
If Madison died during a scheduled medical procedure, authority transferred immediately upon written confirmation from the treating facility.
Madison looked up.
“That isn’t in mine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Could your board have approved an update?”
“Not without me.”
Vanessa, from the dining room, called out, “That’s not true.”
The officer beside her said something quietly.
Vanessa ignored him.
“The board can amend continuity provisions by supermajority.”
Madison turned toward her.
“Not founder voting rights.”
Vanessa said nothing.
That answer frightened Madison.
Because Vanessa knew the documents better than anyone.
If she had stopped arguing, there was probably a reason.
Bishop instructed the officer to close the dining-room doors.
Madison felt suddenly exhausted.
Her body had apparently been waiting for permission.
Rachel checked her blood pressure, frowned, checked it again, and told the detectives the interview was over for now.
Madison protested.
Rachel looked at Bishop.
“It is over.”
Bishop nodded.
That simple agreement made Madison angry.
“I’m right here.”
“Yes,” Rachel said. “And you had general anesthesia this morning.”
“They might arrest Ethan.”
“They might.”
“I need to know.”
“You needing to know does not change how your liver processes medication.”
Madison glared at her.
Rachel adjusted the blanket.
“Be mad.”
“I am.”
“Good. Do it lying down.”
Madison slept.
When she woke, night had fully taken the windows.
For a few seconds she did not remember.
Then she saw the empty chair where Vanessa had been and remembered everything at once.
Rachel sat at the small desk near the bed, writing notes.
“Where is she?”
“Police station.”
“Arrested?”
“Detained earlier. I don’t know her current status.”
“Elena?”
“Giving a statement.”
“Ethan?”
Rachel paused.
Madison pushed herself higher against the pillows.
“What?”
“The police found his rental car at a parking garage near Brickell.”
“Found?”
“He wasn’t with it.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
Madison picked up her phone.
Nothing from Ethan after the morning message.
No missed call.
No panic.
No Where are you?
No Are you okay?
By now he should have known something had happened. Vanessa had not answered him. Police would have tried to contact him. Madison’s surgery should have ended hours ago.
She opened his social-media account.
No recent posts.
His investment firm’s website still showed his photograph beside the title managing partner.
She stared at his smile.
There were photographs from charity dinners, conferences, sailing weekends, their engagement party.
In every image Ethan looked comfortable being watched.
Madison had mistaken that for confidence.
Now she wondered whether it was practice.
Her phone rang.
She jumped.
The caller was not Ethan.
It was her attorney, Simon Grant.
Madison closed her eyes.
Of course.
The board.
The company.
The world outside the penthouse had continued moving while hers collapsed.
She answered.
“Hi.”
Simon did not waste time.
“Are you safe?”
“I think so.”
“Are you alone?”
“Rachel’s here.”
“Who is Rachel?”
“My nurse.”
“Can she hear us?”
“Yes.”
Rachel immediately stood.
Madison waved her back down.
“She’s fine.”
Simon exhaled.
“I received a call from Detective Bishop. I am coming to you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“I’m already in the car.”
“Simon.”
“Madison.”
He had represented her father before her. He was one of the few people who could make her feel twelve without trying.
“Do not access company files,” he said. “Do not delete anything. Do not contact Ethan or Vanessa. Do not discuss this with your board until I’m there.”
“I already called Ethan.”
“When?”
“Before.”
“Did he answer?”
“No.”
“Do not call again.”
She hated being instructed.
She hated more that he was right.
“Is Vanessa under arrest?”
“I’m not discussing what I know on the phone.”
“That means yes.”
“It means I’m not discussing it on the phone.”
“Simon.”
“Your chief operating officer is implicated in potentially falsified corporate records and a medical consent document connected to you. Your fiancé appears on security footage delivering material relevant to the investigation. I need you to resist the urge to turn this into a problem you can manage before you know what problem you have.”
Madison stared at the ocean.
“I run a company that manages problems.”
“You run a company that manages postoperative logistics.”
“Same personality type.”
Simon was silent.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
It lasted half a second.
“Do not make me like you right now,” Madison said.
“I’ve been failing at that for eleven years.”
He arrived forty minutes later carrying a legal pad and a paper cup of coffee.
He wore a suit without a tie. Rain had darkened one shoulder even though the sky outside Madison’s windows looked clear over the ocean.
Miami could rain on one block and not the next.
Rachel inspected the coffee with the suspicion of a customs officer.
“It’s mine,” Simon said.
“She’ll still probably confiscate it,” Madison told him.
Rachel ignored them.
Simon sat near the bed and looked at Madison’s bandages.
His expression tightened.
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes.”
“How badly?”
May you like
“Less than everything else.”
He accepted that answer.
