Chapter 9 - The Room He Locked
I arrived at the office with Adrienne at nine the next morning.
Daniel had changed the entry code.
Through the glass, I could see my old desk.
There was a potted plant on it.
Lauren’s name sat on a brass plate.
My chair had been moved into the hallway.
Twenty years reduced to office furniture.
Adrienne photographed the entrance.
“We’re not forcing our way in.”
Across the parking lot, Frank approached carrying a cardboard box.
“Personal things from your desk,” he said.
“Nothing confidential.”
Inside were Ellie’s baby photograph, a cracked coffee mug, and the stapler I had bought when we couldn’t afford matching supplies.
At the bottom lay a small wooden frame.
A picture of Mom holding Ellie.
I picked it up.
Behind the photograph, something shifted.
An index card fell into my palm.
My mother’s handwriting.
Copies are with Lewis. You work too hard to have to prove you worked.
My throat closed.
Lewis Mercer had handled my parents’ wills.
Mom had insisted he review the company agreement after her estate money went into the business.
Daniel complained about the legal bill for a month.
I called his office from the parking lot.
He was still practicing.
His assistant found my name.
“Yes,” she said.
“We have a retained file relating to your mother’s estate and the business investment.”
I sat down on the curb.
Adrienne crouched beside me.
“What is it?”
“My mother kept copies.”
For the first time since the ballroom, something stronger than panic moved through me.
By afternoon, Lewis had sent the records to Adrienne with my authorization.
The signed operating agreement.
The bank transfer.
Meeting minutes acknowledging my investment.
A letter Daniel signed thanking Margaret for helping the company expand.
And an email from me insisting that ownership be recorded accurately.
Adrienne read it.
“This matters.”
“Enough?”
“Enough to challenge the story he’s telling.”
That evening, she sent formal notice to company counsel and the prospective investor.
She included the disputed amendments and the original records.
The response came forty minutes later.
The investor was suspending the transaction pending review.
I should have felt victorious.
Instead, my phone rang.
Daniel.
I let it go to voicemail.
His voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.”
May you like
Then he added:
“They’re going to ask where the missing money went.”
