My jaw tightened.
“How?”
“Fake consulting contracts. Offshore accounts. Equipment purchases that never happened.”
“Why didn't you report it?”
“I tried.”
“To whom?”
“The board.”
She laughed bitterly.
“They told me I had misunderstood the accounting.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“Three of them.”
“Names.”
She hesitated.
Then gave them.
I knew all three.
One had served on Meridian's board for fourteen years.
Another had been my father's closest friend.
The third had supported my acquisition of the company.
I felt something inside me go cold.
“How did you get the evidence?”
“From an internal audit.”
“Who gave you access?”
“I had access.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“You didn't have that level of access.”
She looked down.
“Someone gave me credentials.”
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Daniel.”
My stomach dropped.
“Daniel Brooks?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because he suspected them too.”
“Then why did he tell me not to trust you?”
“I don't know.”
I stared at her.
She continued.
“Three weeks ago, Daniel discovered someone had accessed your private files.”
“I know.”
“He thought the board was preparing to remove you.”
“They were.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“They were preparing to kill you.”
Silence.
Sarah stared.
I didn't move.
“What?”
Vivian's voice shook.
“Not literally at first.”
“What does that mean?”
“They planned to destroy you financially.”
“That's not murder.”
“They had another plan.”
She looked toward the cabin.
“They were going to force you to resign.”
“Then?”
“Once you resigned, they'd sell Meridian.”
“And?”
“The sale would release the insurance policy.”
I frowned.
“What insurance policy?”
“Your key-man insurance.”
My blood went cold.
Meridian had a life insurance policy on me.
Twenty-five million dollars.
If I died while serving as chief executive and controlling shareholder, the company would receive the payout.
The board could use it to stabilize the company's debt.
I had never thought about it as a target.
Vivian saw the realization in my face.
“Exactly.”
I stood.
“How long?”
“What?”
“How long have they been planning this?”
“Months.”
“And the flight?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You knew I would be on it.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“They told me.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“Your CFO.”
I stared.
“Daniel?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Richard Bell.”
Richard Bell.
Meridian's chief financial officer.
The man who had sent me financial reports every week.
The man who had eaten Thanksgiving dinner at my house.
The man whose daughter had called me Uncle Malcolm.
I felt sick.
Vivian continued.
“He wanted me to provoke you.”
“Why?”
“To make you lose control.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted video evidence.”
“Of what?”
“Of you behaving aggressively.”
I understood.
If they could portray me as unstable, violent, or prejudiced, they could use the controversy to force me out.
My blood ran cold.
The seat.
The coffee.
The shove.
The insult.
The teenager's camera.
It had all been manipulated.
Except Vivian hadn't expected the situation to become what it did.
She looked down.
“I was supposed to make you angry.”
“You succeeded.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“You didn't become angry.”
I almost laughed.
“You threw coffee on me.”
“You were supposed to scream.”
“You pushed me.”
“You were supposed to push back.”
“You called me a racial slur.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I know.”
“And I didn't.”
“No.”
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“Because you were trained not to.”
I shook my head.
“That's not what kept me calm.”
“What did?”
I thought about my father.
His voice.
His final lesson.
Never allow another person's behavior to decide who you become.
I said:
“I've seen what happens when anger controls people.”
She looked away.
“I haven't.”
“No.”
“You've never had to?”
“I've had to.”
I sat beside her.
“More times than you know.”
She looked at me.
And for the first time since the incident began, Vivian Sterling looked less like an enemy.
She looked like a frightened woman who had made terrible choices because she didn't know another way to survive.
I stood.
“We're going to Chicago.”
She stared.
“You can't.”
“Why?”
“They're waiting for you.”
“I know.”
“You could be killed.”
“Possibly.”
“Then why go?”
I looked at her.
“Because if I run, they win.”
The Trap
When we landed, federal agents were waiting.
Elliot Vance was arrested before he could leave the airport.
He had two phones, a forged employee badge, and a weapon.
Vivian was detained.
I was taken to a private security room.
For two hours, I answered questions.
Then the lead investigator entered.
Her name was Agent Rebecca Carter.
She placed a file on the table.
“We've been investigating Meridian for four months.”
I looked at her.
“Why didn't you contact me?”
“We didn't know who we could trust.”
I nodded.
“That makes two of us.”
She opened the file.
“We traced the shell companies.”
“To Richard Bell?”
“Yes.”
I sat back.
“How deep?”
“Very.”
She showed me documents.
Transfers.
Contracts.
Emails.
Photographs.
Then she showed me something else.
A meeting schedule.
My name was highlighted.
MALCOLM REED — OCTOBER 5 — CHICAGO.
I stared.
“Who created this?”
“Richard Bell.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“What was the purpose?”
Agent Carter didn't answer immediately.
Then:
“To make sure you were in Chicago today.”
“Why?”
She turned another page.
A photograph.
A warehouse.
Then another.
A man.
Elliot Vance.
And Richard Bell.
Together.
My hands tightened.
“Where is Bell now?”
“His house is empty.”
I looked at the clock.
“Where is Daniel?”
“Your COO?”
“Yes.”
“He disappeared three hours ago.”
I stood.
“Find him.”
“We're trying.”
I looked at the file.
Then understood.
Daniel had known.
He had tried to warn me.
But he hadn't known whom to trust.
Maybe he had discovered the plan too late.
Maybe he was hiding.
Maybe he had been taken.
Agent Carter said:
“There is one more problem.”
“What?”
“Your board has called an emergency meeting.”
“When?”
“Today.”
“Who called it?”
“Richard Bell.”
I smiled.
“Of course.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Attend.”
Agent Carter frowned.
“That could be dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“You're not a law enforcement officer.”
“No.”
“Then why go?”
“Because they think they already won.”
I picked up my jacket.
“They're about to discover they haven't.”
The boardroom at Meridian headquarters was on the thirty-second floor.
Glass walls.