Chương 8
“Did he have my phone?” Claire asked.
“We don’t know.”
“My phone wasn’t found.”
“No.”
“He took it.”
“Do you remember that?”
Claire saw David’s hand closing around the phone after impact, the screen bright under rising water. Or she imagined it because the phone was missing.
“I remember him reaching.”
“That’s not the same.”
“He needed it because I had photographed the ledgers.”
“Did you?”
“I think so.”
Emma had reviewed Claire’s cloud storage and found no photographs from that night. The account showed a failed upload attempt at 9:36 p.m., eleven minutes before the sedan reached the bridge.
Harris believed the missing phone might contain the clearest evidence of financial fraud and perhaps the crash. David’s lawyer claimed David had never possessed it.
The river had been searched twice.
“What happens now?” Claire asked.
“A grand jury may consider financial charges. The district attorney is reviewing potential offenses related to the crash and subsequent statements.”
“Potential offenses.”
“I don’t choose the charges.”
“Do you believe me?”
Harris looked through the window at the parking garage.
“When I was a young detective, I believed confidence meant accuracy,” he said. “Then I met confident liars and frightened truth-tellers. Now I believe evidence.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have that won’t change to make you feel better.”
Claire disliked him less after that.
Bennett Holdings appointed an emergency board committee. Daniel’s firm hired outside counsel because its own work on the transfer documents created a conflict. The company placed David on administrative leave, froze certain accounts, and informed lenders that an internal investigation was underway.
Within forty-eight hours, two major projects stopped because subcontractors demanded payment guarantees. Payroll was due in nine days.
The company’s controller, whom David had fired, refused to return unless given written protection and independent authority. Three board members argued that removing David before proving misconduct would destroy lender confidence. Another resigned after reporters appeared outside his home.
Claire attended her first board call from rehab in a navy sweatshirt because she could not manage buttons.
The directors appeared in rectangles on Daniel’s laptop. Some looked relieved to see her. Others looked horrified by how ill she appeared. One asked whether her participation had been medically approved.
“It has,” Claire said.
Dr. Shah had approved twenty minutes. Daniel had promised to end the call at nineteen.
A director named Paul Givens cleared his throat. “Claire, all of us are grateful—beyond grateful—that you’re recovering. But we need to separate personal allegations from operational necessity.”
David’s empty rectangle remained labeled D. MERCER.
Claire held the edge of the bedside table to hide the tremor in her hand.
“Operational necessity is why I requested an audit before the crash.”
The rectangles went quiet.
Paul frowned. “There is no record of such a request.”
“There’s a voicemail to trust counsel.”
Daniel spoke. “I can confirm receiving a request for a confidential meeting concerning company governance.”
“You told us it concerned estate planning,” Paul said.
“I said I could not disclose the substance because we never met.”
Another director leaned toward her camera. “Claire, are you accusing David of causing your accident because you found accounting discrepancies?”
“I’m saying there was no accident.”
Daniel warned her with a glance. The criminal investigation was ongoing. She ignored him.
Paul removed his glasses. “We should not conduct this discussion while Claire is medicated.”
The comment struck with practiced gentleness.
Claire’s face warmed.
“I am not sedated.”
“I didn’t say sedated.”
“You said medicated because it sounds kinder than impaired.”
“That was not my intention.”
“It was your convenience.”
The call became messy after that. Directors spoke over one another. Outside counsel advised against discussing the crash. The finance officer warned that public accusations could trigger loan defaults. Someone’s dog barked. Paul forgot to mute himself while telling his assistant to postpone lunch.
Claire’s concentration failed before the argument did. Words blurred. Her neck weakened. She began answering questions that had already passed.
Daniel ended the call at seventeen minutes.
“I wasn’t finished,” she said after the screen went dark.
“You were no longer following it.”
“I was following.”
“Paul asked about payroll. You answered about the bridge.”
“Because they’re connected.”
“Not in the sentence he asked.”
Claire pushed the laptop away. It moved only a few inches.
Daniel closed it.
“They saw me fail.”
“They saw you six days after emerging from a prolonged disorder of consciousness.”
“They saw what David needs them to see.”
Daniel straightened the legal pad on his knees. “Then don’t help him.”
She hated the sentence enough to remember it.
Payroll was met through a short-term credit facility secured by two properties the company still owned without disputed liens. The interest rate was ugly. The board approved it because several hundred employees had rent, mortgages, children, and no responsibility for the Bennett family’s collapse.
Claire spent the next week learning to transfer from bed to wheelchair with minimal assistance. She practiced speaking for longer periods. Her voice remained thin, but words came faster. She discovered that coffee now tasted metallic and that music exhausted her. She could not stand the television because people changed subjects too quickly.
Emma visited less often.
When she came, she brought work. She had built a timeline of David’s transactions using public records, leaked invoices from the fired controller, and files Claire had stored in an encrypted company account. The password had been the name of Claire’s childhood dog followed by a number Emma guessed on the fourth attempt.
“You guessed my password?”
“You used HENRY.”
“He was a good dog.”
“He ate drywall.”
“He was anxious.”
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Emma showed her payments flowing from a redevelopment fund into four vendors. Two existed only on paper. One shared an address with a storage unit. The fourth, Mercer Strategic Services, belonged to David.
The money did not all go to him. Several transfers paid off loans tied to failed construction projects he had hidden from the board. Some money covered Margaret’s mortgage. Some funded payroll during a winter cash shortage.
