Chương 7
Inside was a silver-and-black cuff link.
Nathan stared at it.
“Where did that come from?”
“Mrs. Cole’s vehicle.”
Nathan looked up sharply.
“Why do you have it?”
“I don’t. Police do. They photographed it before logging it.”
“Where was it found?”
“Under the passenger seat.”
Nathan took the photograph from James’s other hand.
The cuff link was rectangular, black enamel with a narrow silver border.
He had seen Daniel wear the pair at least twenty times.
That meant almost nothing legally.
Lots of men owned black cuff links.
But Nathan could see the tiny scratch in the lower corner.
He remembered causing it.
Three years earlier, during an argument in Nathan’s office, Daniel had slammed his hand against the edge of a conference table.
The enamel had chipped.
Nathan stared at the image.
“How long has that been in the car?”
“No way to know.”
“Claire knew Daniel.”
“She did.”
“He could have been in her car years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Has he?”
“I don’t know.”
Nathan handed the photo back.
“Don’t tell Claire yet.”
James nodded.
Nathan began to walk away again.
Then stopped.
“Actually.”
James waited.
“Tell Alvarez first. Then we tell Claire.”
A faint expression passed over James’s face.
Approval.
Nathan resented it.
He resented even more that he wanted it.
Claire recognized the cuff link.
She did not remember how it got into her car.
That made her furious.
By that afternoon she had begun treating every missing piece of memory as if it were a personal betrayal by her own brain.
She asked the same questions repeatedly, then snapped when Nathan reminded her they had already discussed them.
At one point she demanded her laptop.
Nathan refused.
She called him controlling.
He brought the laptop.
She opened it, stared at the password field for nearly a minute, and started crying.
Nathan reached for it.
Claire slapped his hand away.
“Don’t.”
“I was just—”
“I know.”
She pressed both palms over her eyes.
“I know.”
Nathan sat beside the bed.
Emma was downstairs with a child-life specialist whose job title Nathan had initially found absurd and now considered evidence of civilization.
Claire lowered her hands.
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
“Don’t say you know.”
“Okay.”
“I hate when you agree too fast.”
Nathan looked toward the window.
Claire exhaled.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“That is also annoying.”
He nodded.
She looked at him.
“Are you actually learning?”
“Very slowly.”
Claire almost smiled.
Then she turned the laptop toward him.
“There was something on here.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Work?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“Foundation accounts.”
Nathan’s attention sharpened.
Claire saw it.
“Don’t become CEO right now.”
“I’m not CEO right now.”
“What?”
He hadn’t planned to tell her yet.
Claire stared.
“Nathan.”
“The board placed me on leave.”
“Because of Daniel?”
“Because I gave police the old report.”
Claire said nothing.
“That report creates exposure for the company.”
“I know what it creates.”
“I should have released it three years ago.”
“Yes.”
The word landed without cruelty.
That made it heavier.
Nathan sat down.
Claire watched him.
“You finally did the right thing.”
He looked at her.
“But?”
“There’s no but.”
“There’s always a but.”
“No. There’s an and.”
He waited.
Claire looked at her hands.
“You did the right thing, and you only did it after our daughter had to throw a tray across the dining room because none of the adults were paying attention.”
Nathan looked away.
“Fair.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“I’m too tired to aim.”
That made him laugh.
Claire did too.
For perhaps thirty seconds, it was just them.
Then the laptop made a small notification sound.
Claire froze.
Nathan stopped laughing.
“What?”
She stared at the screen.
A calendar reminder had appeared.
MONDAY — 3:00 P.M. — NORTH HARBOR REVIEW.
Claire’s breathing changed.
“Nathan.”
He leaned closer.
“What is North Harbor?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Company?”
“I don’t know.”
He reached for his phone.
Claire grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t call anyone yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I did this before.”
“What?”
“I found something. Then I told people.”
“Who?”
“I don’t remember.”
Nathan waited.
Claire looked frightened.
“I think Victoria was one of them.”
North Harbor was not a company.
At least not officially.
Cole Meridian’s accounting system contained no vendor by that exact name.
The foundation had no grant recipient with it either.
James found three similar references in archived expense files: North Harbor Advisory, North Harbour Capital with the British spelling, and NH Strategic Services.
The first was a legitimate consulting firm in Boston.
The second had never done business with Cole Meridian.
The third had.
NH Strategic Services had received $3.7 million over fourteen months for “international risk advisory.”
Nathan stared at the figure on James’s laptop.
“Who approved it?”
James scrolled.
The authorization chain had two names.
Victoria Lane.
Daniel Cross.
The oldest payment predated Daniel’s termination by four months.
The newest came three weeks earlier.
Nathan leaned back.
“That’s impossible.”
James said, “Why?”
“Daniel hasn’t worked for us in three years.”
“The account code remained active under a successor vendor profile.”
“Who authorized the recent payment?”
“Victoria.”
Nathan stared at the screen.
“Beneficial owner?”
“Unknown.”
“Bank?”
“Delaware account routed through a payment processor.”
Nathan rubbed his jaw.
“You’re telling me Victoria has been sending money to a company connected to Daniel.”
“I’m telling you what the records show.”
“How did Claire find it?”
“She sits on the foundation audit committee.”
“This isn’t foundation money.”
“No.”
Nathan looked again.
A series of smaller reimbursements had been allocated across departments.
Risk.
Security.
International operations.
Compliance.
Small enough individually to avoid board review.
Large enough together to matter.
Daniel had always liked fragmentation.
Never steal a million dollars if twenty people could each sign off on fifty thousand and assume someone else understood the whole thing.
Nathan felt nauseated.
“Send this to Alvarez.”
James did not move.
Nathan looked at him.
May you like
“What?”
“Company counsel instructed all employees to preserve but not distribute internal records without authorization.”
