Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCHAdrian turned toward Brooke.
“What did you just say?”
Brooke looked as though she wished she could disappear.
Vanessa immediately stepped between them.
“She's confused. We've been processing dozens of closing documents this week.”
“I asked Brooke,” Adrian said.
His voice wasn't loud.
That somehow made it more frightening.
Brooke glanced at Vanessa.
Then she looked down.
“I saw another consent form yesterday.”
“What consent form?”
“A transfer authorization.”
“Transferring what?”
Brooke swallowed.
“I don't know. I only saw the first page.”
Vanessa gave a short, irritated laugh.
“Adrian, this is ridiculous. You're allowing an entry-level invoice clerk to turn a routine business transaction into some kind of conspiracy.”
I had heard Vanessa insult me so many times that I barely noticed anymore.
But something about the way she said entry-level invoice clerk made me think of Dad.
He used to tell me that a person's job title described what they did, not what they were worth.
I remembered him returning home from the machine shop with grease beneath his fingernails.
He had never been ashamed of honest work.
I straightened my shoulders.
“Then explain why my father's signature appears on documents he couldn't possibly have signed.”
Vanessa turned toward me.
“Your father may have authorized someone to sign for him.”
“Who?”
“That isn't my department.”
“You manage the finance department.”
Her mouth tightened.
“Watch your tone.”
“No,” Adrian said.
Everyone looked at him.
He pointed toward the chair opposite his desk.
“Sit down, Vanessa.”
She remained standing.
“Adrian—”
“Sit.”
Vanessa lowered herself into the chair.
He called his assistant again.
“Margaret, ask building security to preserve the security recordings from this floor. Nobody is to delete or overwrite anything.”
Vanessa sat forward.
“That's excessive.”
“I also want an immediate hold placed on all payments connected to Riverside Industrial Holdings.”
“You'll breach the acquisition agreement.”
“We haven't signed the final agreement.”
“Malcolm will be furious.”
Adrian studied her.
“I'm beginning to understand that.”
His office telephone rang.
The name on the display was MALCOLM PIERCE.
Adrian let it ring.
For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely frightened.
He turned to me.
“Ella, does your father know you brought these documents here?”
“He knows I was looking into the company.”
“Does he know about the proposed sale?”
“No.”
“Then I'd like to speak with him.”
I hesitated.
Dad had experienced another difficult week.
The colder weather made his left leg ache, and his physical therapist had warned him not to push himself too hard.
At sixty-eight, he still insisted on fixing broken appliances around our apartment, even though carrying a toolbox exhausted him.
“Not without asking him first,” I said.
Adrian nodded.
“Fair enough.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“Are we really going to let her dictate the investigation?”
Adrian turned toward her.
“Until thirty minutes ago, I believed Thomas Reed was no longer a shareholder. Now I'm holding a document that says he owns twenty-four percent of the voting interests.”
He tapped the paper.
“And you're worried about who gets to speak?”
Vanessa stopped talking.
A few minutes later, June Mercer arrived.
She was in her late fifties, with short silver hair, a dark green suit, and the kind of calm expression that suggested she had spent decades dealing with powerful people who believed rules were optional.
Adrian introduced her as an outside attorney who had previously handled several matters for the company.
After hearing a brief explanation, June asked everyone except Adrian and me to leave.
Vanessa objected.
June simply said, “I represent the company, not individual employees. I'll speak with you separately.”
Vanessa walked out stiffly.
Brooke followed.
Through the glass wall, I watched them disappear into the elevator.
June examined Dad's certificates.
“These documents appear to be original, but we'll need to authenticate them against the company's records.”
“Does that mean he still owns twenty-four percent?” I asked.
“It means we have serious questions about whether his ownership was lawfully transferred. The current percentage and voting rights will depend on the governing documents and subsequent transactions.”
Her careful wording disappointed me.
I had imagined there would be one piece of paper that proved everything.
Instead, there were ten years of records to untangle.
June must have recognized my expression.
“Ella, the strongest cases are built on evidence, not assumptions.”
She turned to Adrian.
“I recommend an independent forensic accounting review, immediate preservation notices, and a temporary halt to the asset sale.”
“What about Malcolm?” Adrian asked.
“Do not warn him about the documents until preservation measures are underway.”
Adrian's expression darkened.
“He's been my friend for twenty-five years.”
June looked at him.
“That doesn't make the documents less concerning.”
I excused myself to call Dad.
I stepped into a quiet conference room and dialed our apartment.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
His voice was rough from sleep.
“Did I wake you?”
“No. I was watching the Pirates lose an old baseball game on television. Somehow it's less painful when I already know the score.”
I smiled despite everything.
“Dad, I need to ask you something.”
He heard the tension immediately.
“What happened?”
“I'm upstairs at the company. With Adrian Vale.”
Silence.
“Dad?”
“Why are you with Adrian?”
“I showed him the coffee tin.”
His breathing changed.
“Ella.”
“He says you still own part of the company.”
“I told you that years ago.”
“He also says someone submitted paperwork claiming you sold your shares in 2016.”
My father didn't answer.
“Dad, the paperwork says you received $2.4 million.”
A long silence followed.
Then he gave a bitter laugh.
“Two million dollars. I couldn't even get the insurance company to pay for my wheelchair.”
“Did you sign anything back then?”
“Yes.”
My heart dropped.
“What?”
“After the stroke, Malcolm came to the rehabilitation center. He brought papers.”
“What kind of papers?”
“He said they were necessary to keep my medical benefits from being interrupted.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did you read them?”
“I tried. My vision wasn't good. And I was on medication.”
“Dad—”
“He told me Adrian had approved everything.”
I gripped my phone.
“Did you sign the papers?”
“Some of them.”
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
“Did you agree to sell your shares?”
“No.”
His answer came immediately.
“I never agreed to give away what we built.”
I heard him shifting in his chair.
“Listen carefully, Ella.”
“I'm listening.”
“If Malcolm is involved, you need to be very careful.”
“Why?”
“Because that man has been hiding something since the accident.”
I frowned.
“What accident?”
Dad went quiet again.
Then he asked a question I wasn't prepared for.
“Did Adrian tell you why I really stopped working at the factory?”
“I thought you left after your stroke.”
“No, sweetheart.”
His voice became almost a whisper.
“I was pushed out two years before that.”
I stared at the conference room wall.
“What happened?”
Dad inhaled shakily.
“Somebody got badly hurt at that plant. I tried to stop it from happening. Adrian knew the truth, and Malcolm made sure nobody believed me.”
“Dad, what are you talking about?”
“I've wanted to tell you for years.”
“Then tell me now.”
But instead of answering, he said something that sent a chill down my spine.
“Ella, don't trust Adrian just because he's frightened today.”
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“Why?”
“Because when they took everything from me, he was standing right beside Malcolm.”
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