Chapter 19 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much
The first mistake arrived two days later.
Her name was Natalie Brooks.
She had worked in Whitmore Global's legal department for eleven years.
She requested a private meeting.
I agreed.
Natalie entered my office carrying a cardboard archive box.
She placed it on the table.
"I don't know if this matters."
"What is it?"
"Old acquisition files."
I opened the box.
Inside were contracts, meeting notes, internal memoranda.
Then I saw the date.
Seven years earlier.
Grant's final years at the company.
My pulse quickened.
"Why are you bringing this to me now?"
Natalie looked nervous.
"Because Northstar contacted me."
I stopped turning pages.
"What did they want?"
"Information."
"About what?"
"Your family trust."
I looked at her.
"Did you give them anything?"
"No."
She reached into the box.
"But I realized something."
She handed me a photocopy.
It was an internal memo signed by Grant.
The memo authorized an external valuation of Whitmore Logistics.
I read it twice.
The valuation was suspiciously low.
Too low.
Arthur leaned over my shoulder.
"This is the subsidiary that owns the aircraft."
"Yes."
"And Grant tried to sell it?"
"Apparently."
Natalie nodded.
"But the sale never happened."
"Why?"
She looked at me.
"Because your father's trust blocked it."
My breath stopped.
Julian was silent.
I kept reading.
The trust had refused to approve the transfer because the subsidiary was considered strategically important.
Grant had tried again months later.
Blocked again.
Then again.
Three failed attempts.
I looked at Arthur.
"Why wasn't this in the trial?"
He studied the papers.
"Because it wasn't illegal."
"Then why hide it?"
Natalie answered.
"Grant never told anyone you knew about the trust's protections."
I felt sick.
Not because Grant had failed.
Because I suddenly understood something.
The jet had never been the point.
The seat had never been the point.
He had been trying to control something he didn't own.
And now someone else was trying to do the same thing.
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
You should ask Julian what his father promised Grant.
I stared at it.
Julian read the message over my shoulder.
His face went completely still.
"I don't know."
"I believe you."
"But someone wants you to doubt me."
"Yes."
He looked at me.
"And they're going to keep trying."
I folded the message into my palm.
May you like
"Then we give them nothing."
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