Chapter 4: The Price of Silence
Martin removed his gloves and approached our booth.
“You always were too sentimental, Rebecca.”
She pushed the canvas bag beneath the table.
“You told me the trust money was temporary.”
“And you believed me because the salary was excellent.”
I stood between them.
“Sit down, Mr.
Blake,” Martin said.
“At your age, excitement can be dangerous.”
“At my age, I know when a man is stalling.”
The café door rattled.
Jared stood outside, pulling at the locked handle.
Martin glanced at him and smiled.
“You brought him after I told you not to,” Rebecca whispered.
“He’s my son.”
Martin reached for the ledger.
I placed my hand over it.
“You used my wife’s identity.”
“Lauren chose the name.
I supplied the approvals.”
“Why?”
“Because Jared stopped listening to the people who built his company.”
Jared struck the glass with his palm.
“Open the door, Martin!”
The café manager emerged from the kitchen.
“Sir, you need to leave.”
Martin’s smile disappeared.
“This is a private financial matter.”
“It stopped being private when you locked my customer inside.”
The manager unlocked the door.
Jared hurried in and took the seat beside me.
“Your access is suspended,” he told Martin.
“You cannot suspend your CFO without board approval.”
“I can restrict an account during a fr@ud investigation.”
Martin leaned across the table.
“And tomorrow I’ll show the board thirty-two transfers carrying your encrypted authorization.”
“Forged authorizations.”
“Prove it.”
Rebecca pulled the canvas bag onto her lap.
“I kept the authentication logs.”
Martin’s chair scraped backward.
“You copied company security records?”
“I copied what you told me to erase.”
“Give me the drive.”
“No.”
Martin reached toward the bag, but the manager stepped between them.
“You heard her.”
Martin straightened his coat.
“Rebecca, if you hand over that drive, I’ll make certain you’re charged with us.”
“You said I would be protected.”
“I said many things.”
I looked at Rebecca.
“Give the bag to Jared.”
Her hands shook as she passed it across the table.
Martin took out his phone.
“One call,” he said, “and every director learns that Jared used his mother’s identity to hide company funds.”
Jared opened the bag.
Inside were printed messages, a flash drive, and copies of eight bank forms.
“You’re bluffing,” he said.
Martin tapped his screen.
All three of our phones chimed at once.
An email had reached Jared’s entire board.
Attached were forms bearing Jared’s digital signature and a photograph of me entering the bank where the false account had been opened.
Jared stared at the picture.
“Dad, when was this taken?”
“Four years ago.
I closed Diane’s safe-deposit box.”
Martin put his phone away.
“Tomorrow, I’ll explain how Oscar opened the account and how Jared moved company money through it.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“That isn’t what happened.”
“Your word against verified documents.”
I slid one form closer.
“You made one mistake.”
Martin’s eyes moved to me.
“The account application says Diane appeared by video on March 14.”
“So?”
“Diane’s passport expired eleven years ago.
And the photograph on this form was taken in our garden fifteen years ago.”
Martin’s mouth tightened.
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves you were careless.”
He walked toward the door, then looked back.
“By noon tomorrow, Jared will no longer control his company.
By evening, Rebecca will be begging for an attorney.”
The door closed behind him.
Rebecca covered her mouth with both hands.
“He’s going to take the company.”
Jared inserted the flash drive into his laptop.
One folder opened, but the others flashed red and vanished.
“He planted a deletion program,” Jared said.
May you like
“The files are erasing themselves.”
On the screen, the last folder disappeared.
