Chapter 2 - The Name Everyone Was Afraid to Say
I spun around so quickly my phone nearly slipped from my hand.
Peter Calloway stood in the stairwell doorway.
My boss.
At midnight.
Inside a building he had supposedly left five hours earlier.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
Peter was fifty-one.
Gray at the temples.
Immaculate suits.
Polite in the particular way senior executives became polite when they wanted something from you.
He looked from me to the elevator.
“Emily?”
“What are you doing here?”
His expression shifted.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I work here.”
“At midnight?”
“You gave me the presentation.”
That landed.
He glanced toward the hallway.
“Where's security?”
“Why?”
“I saw emergency vehicles outside.”
His answer came too quickly.
I remembered something Marcus had once said while chatting at the lobby desk.
Reed Tower's executive floors were sealed after ten.
Employees could exit.
They could not reenter without a security override.
Peter shouldn't have been able to come upstairs.
“How did you get onto forty-five?”
He smiled slightly.
“Emily, don't start interrogating your boss.”
“I'm not.”
“You look upset.”
“A man collapsed.”
His smile vanished.
“What man?”
I studied him.
“You don't know?”
“Why would I?”
Something inside me tightened.
“Alexander Reed.”
Peter's face went perfectly still.
Not surprised.
Still.
There is a difference.
People hearing unexpected bad news move before they can control themselves.
Their eyes widen.
Their mouth opens.
Their shoulders shift.
Peter did none of that.
He simply said:
“Is he alive?”
Not Who?
Not Alexander Reed?
Not The owner?
Is he alive?
“Yes.”
The word left my mouth before I thought about whether Marcus would have wanted me to answer.
Peter exhaled.
I couldn't tell whether it was relief.
“What happened?”
“He collapsed.”
“Heart attack?”
“I don't know.”
“Did he say anything first?”
The question made every alarm inside me wake up.
“What?”
“Before he lost consciousness. Did he say anything?”
“No.”
“Nothing?”
“No.”
Peter stepped closer.
“What were you doing with him?”
“I wasn't with him.”
“You were inside the elevator.”
“He got on.”
“Where?”
“Forty-six.”
Peter's eyes sharpened.
“What was Reed doing on forty-six?”
“How would I know?”
He looked away for half a second.
That was when I knew he was afraid.
I had worked for Peter for four years.
I had watched him negotiate acquisitions worth hundreds of millions.
I had seen federal regulators challenge our numbers in conference rooms.
I had watched employees resign while shouting.
Peter never lost control.
Now a muscle jumped in his cheek.
My phone buzzed again.
His eyes dropped toward it.
I turned the screen away.
“Who is that?”
“My sister.”
I don't have a sister.
The lie came easily.
That frightened me too.
Peter nodded.
“You should go home.”
“I was planning to.”
“Take a car.”
“I'll get a cab.”
“I'll arrange one.”
“No.”
His gaze hardened.
Then softened again.
“Emily, you just performed CPR on the owner of this company. You're in shock.”
“How do you know I performed CPR?”
Silence.
He had made a mistake.
Peter glanced toward the elevator.
“I assumed.”
“No, you didn't.”
“Don't be dramatic.”
“Who told you?”
His expression changed.
There it was.
The version of Peter most junior employees never saw.
Cold.
Calculating.
“Go home, Emily.”
The words were quiet.
They sounded like an order.
Before I could answer, footsteps approached.
Marcus came through the hallway with two additional security officers.
He stopped when he saw Peter.
“Mr. Calloway.”
Peter turned.
“Hale.”
“How did you access this floor?”
“I have executive credentials.”
“Those credentials were suspended after ten.”
Peter's jaw tightened.
“I'm a senior vice president.”
“That's not what I asked.”
For the first time in my six years at Reed Global, I saw someone speak to Peter as though his title meant nothing.
Peter seemed equally surprised.
He looked at me.
“Go home.”
Marcus stepped between us.
“Ms. Carter stays.”
“On whose authority?”
Marcus held Peter's gaze.
“Alexander Reed's.”
That silenced him.
Peter looked toward the black folder in Marcus's hand.
The fear returned.
Only for a moment.
But I saw it.
Then he nodded.
“Of course.”
He walked toward the elevator.
Marcus said, “Not that one.”
Peter stopped.
“Why?”
“It's a secured scene.”
“From what?”
“A medical event.”
Peter gave a humorless smile.
“Then why are you holding Reed's audit file?”
Every person in that hallway froze.
Marcus slowly looked down at the folder.
Then back up.
“You recognized it.”
Peter realized his second mistake.
Nobody had shown him the front.
Nobody had said what it contained.
He should not have known.
Peter pressed the elevator button.
“I've had a long night.”
“You're not leaving yet,” Marcus said.
Peter laughed once.
“You're building security.”
“Yes.”
“I am executive vice president of financial operations.”
“And tonight I'm responsible for everyone inside this building.”
Peter turned.
Their eyes met.
For several seconds, I thought Peter might actually push past him.
Instead, he removed his phone.
“Then call Jonathan Mercer.”
Marcus didn't move.
Peter dialed.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then he stopped.
The screen had gone black.
“No service?” I asked.
Peter didn't answer.
Marcus checked his own phone.
No signal.
One of the other guards swore quietly.
“Network's down.”
Marcus spoke into his radio.
Nothing.
Only static.
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“It means somebody disabled the internal repeater.”
“Can that happen accidentally?”
“No.”
Marcus walked to the nearest wall panel.
Dark.
“Building security controls are failing.”
Peter moved toward the stairwell.
Marcus blocked him.
“Everybody stays.”
“You can't detain me.”
“I can lock this floor until Chicago police arrive.”
Peter stared at him.
“Police?”
Marcus lifted the folder.
“Someone disabled an elevator camera, accessed a restricted audit suite, and shut down our communications immediately after Mr. Reed suffered cardiac arrest.”
Peter's mouth tightened.
“You're implying a crime.”
“No.”
Marcus looked straight at him.
“I'm saying I'm not stupid.”
The emergency lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then steadied.
My phone suddenly connected to the tower Wi-Fi.
A dozen emails loaded.
One caught my eye.
It had been sent at 11:32 p.m.
Fifteen minutes before Alexander collapsed.
From: A. Reed.
Subject: Carter analysis.
My name.
I opened it.
The message was only two lines.
Emily Carter,
I reviewed the variance report you submitted through Finance Compliance last month. Do not discuss it with anyone. I need to speak with you privately tonight.
My hands went cold.
I had submitted dozens of reports.
Then I remembered one.
A discrepancy in infrastructure vendor payments.
$17.4 million.
I had flagged it.
Peter had told me the numbers were legitimate restructuring costs and ordered me to close the review.
Apparently Alexander Reed had seen it.
Marcus noticed my face.
“What?”
I showed him.
Peter stepped forward.
“Give me that.”
I pulled the phone back.
“Why?”
“Because you don't understand what you're looking at.”
“Then explain it.”
His expression changed completely.
“Emily.”
Marcus moved closer.
“Back away from her.”
Peter stopped.
I scrolled.
There was an attachment.
Encrypted.
File name:
CARTER_17.4M_REVIEW_FINAL.
I tapped it.
Password required.
Underneath, another email loaded.
Sent at 11:40.
Seven minutes before the elevator.
From Alexander Reed.
If anything happens before we speak, contact Marcus Hale only.
I looked up.
Marcus read it.
Peter did too.
Nobody spoke.
Then the lights went out.
Complete darkness.
Someone grabbed my arm.
I screamed.
A body slammed into the wall.
Marcus shouted.
Something shattered.
The emergency lights came on.
Peter was gone.
May you like
The stairwell door was swinging shut.
And the black audit folder was no longer in Marcus's hand.
