Chapter 4 - The Company My Father Thought He Owned
"Where did you get that?"
The woman closed the door behind her.
She was in her mid-fifties, with short dark hair and a charcoal coat.
She placed the silver music box on the table.
"My name is Elaine Mercer."
Martin stood.
"You disappeared."
"I resigned."
"You took the box," I said.
"No."
She looked directly at me.
"I recovered it."
"From whom?"
"Richard Cole."
The name landed heavily.
Operations director.
One of the three remaining executives with access to the suspicious transfers.
Elaine sat.
"Lucas contacted me two months before his death."
"Why?"
"He believed Richard was destroying records."
"Was he?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't Lucas go to the police?"
"Because altered corporate ledgers aren't automatically evidence of a crime, and Lucas wanted to know who Richard was protecting."
"Protecting?"
Elaine nodded.
"Richard wasn't the person benefiting from the transfers."
"Who was?"
"We couldn't prove it."
Samantha gestured toward the music box.
"How did Richard know about this?"
"He didn't know what it meant. He knew Lucas had hidden something inside it."
Elaine opened the lid.
The little mechanism played three soft notes before she stopped it.
Then she turned the box upside down.
Beneath the felt base was a tiny compartment.
Empty.
My heart sank.
"Whatever was inside is gone."
"No," Elaine said.
She removed one of the decorative feet.
Inside it was a microSD card.
Lucas.
I almost laughed.
He'd hidden something inside the hiding place.
Samantha took the card.
"Nobody touches this until we make a forensic copy."
Elaine nodded.
"Good."
"Why bring it to Victoria?"
"Because Lucas said it belonged to her."
I looked at Elaine.
"Did Lucas think my father was stealing from the company?"
"He didn't know."
"Everybody keeps saying that."
"Because evidence matters."
"Did you think Charles was stealing?"
Elaine paused.
"I thought Charles was hiding something."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
"What was he hiding?"
"Debt."
Martin looked startled.
"What debt?"
"Personal guarantees."
Elaine opened her bag and removed copies of loan documents.
"Charles leveraged assets connected to several private ventures. Those ventures failed."
"How much?"
"Nearly twelve million dollars."
I felt dizzy.
"So he needed Lucas's money."
"He needed control of Lucas's shares."
Samantha understood first.
"If Lucas died, Charles assumed those shares returned to the company."
Elaine nodded.
"But they didn't," I said.
"They went to you."
My father's behavior suddenly made terrible sense.
The urgency.
The forged authorization.
The attempt to sell my house.
He wasn't simply greedy.
He was desperate.
"Did Charles cause Lucas's accident?"
The room became silent.
Elaine answered carefully.
"I have no evidence of that."
"Did Lucas think he might?"
"No evidence of that either."
I appreciated the answer even though it wasn't satisfying.
I wasn't going to turn grief into an accusation simply because I needed someone to blame.
Lucas had died in a highway accident.
Until evidence said otherwise, that was what it was.
But my father had tried to exploit his death.
That was real.
The next morning, the doctors still wouldn't discharge me.
So Samantha arranged something Charles never expected.
I attended the board meeting by secure video.
At 8:58, my screen connected.
The Baldwin-Gallagher conference room appeared.
My father sat at the head of the table.
Of course he did.
Richard Cole sat two seats away.
Martin was present.
Elaine was not.
Three independent directors occupied the other chairs.
Charles looked into the camera.
"Victoria."
"Dad."
His mouth tightened.
"I don't believe this meeting is appropriate given your medical condition."
"Then why did you call it?"
One director looked down to hide a smile.
Charles continued.
"My concern is continuity."
"Your notice says incapacity."
"You are hospitalized."
"I'm pregnant, not unconscious."
Samantha sat beside me but remained off camera.
Charles said, "This company employs eight hundred people. It cannot be controlled from a maternity ward."
"Good thing I don't plan to manage daily operations."
"Then transfer the proxy."
"To you?"
"Temporarily."
"No."
Richard shifted in his seat.
Charles leaned forward.
"You don't understand this company."
"You're right."
His expression relaxed slightly.
Then I continued.
"But I understand fifty-two percent."
The room went silent.
Charles's face changed.
"Excuse me?"
"Lucas's protected voting interests."
Martin slid documents across the table.
Charles didn't touch them.
"That's impossible."
"It isn't," Martin said.
"You knew?"
"I knew some of it."
Charles looked back at me.
"Victoria, whatever Lucas told you—"
"Lucas didn't tell me."
That stopped him.
"He protected me without asking me to fight you."
"Fight me?"
"Yesterday you tried to remove me from my own home."
Charles glanced at the directors.
"This is exactly why family matters should remain outside the boardroom."
"You brought my medical condition into the boardroom."
One director, Patricia Monroe, spoke.
"Charles, counsel has confirmed Mrs. Gallagher's voting proxy."
He stared at her.
"You spoke to counsel without me?"
"We verified documents."
"This is my company."
Martin looked at him.
"No, Charles."
Nobody moved.
Martin continued.
"It's a corporation."
For thirty years, people had let my father confuse those two things.
That morning, they stopped.
Charles pushed his chair back.
"This meeting is adjourned."
"No," Patricia said.
"You don't have authority to adjourn it unilaterally."
His face reddened.
Richard suddenly stood.
"I need five minutes."
"Sit down," Charles snapped.
Richard looked at him.
Something passed between them.
Fear.
Recognition.
Then Richard sat.
Samantha whispered beside me.
"Watch them."
I did.
The vote to remove me failed.
Five to two.
Charles and Richard were the only votes in favor.
Then Martin introduced a motion for an independent forensic audit.
Charles exploded.
"Absolutely not."
Patricia raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"Because this company doesn't need outsiders tearing through confidential records."
"Eight million dollars in questionable transfers suggests otherwise," Martin said.
Charles turned toward him.
"You ungrateful—"
"Vote," I said.
Everyone looked at the screen.
My father stared at me.
I'd spent my childhood shrinking when he looked at me like that.
At thirty-two, pregnant with Lucas's daughter, I finally understood something.
His anger wasn't power.
It was what he used when power failed.
"Vote," I repeated.
The audit passed.
Six to one.
Even Richard voted for it.
Charles slowly turned toward him.
Richard wouldn't meet his eyes.
The meeting ended twenty minutes later.
Samantha closed the laptop.
"That went well."
"My father hates me."
"No."
She packed the documents.
"Your father hates losing control. Don't confuse the two."
My phone rang.
Courtney.
Again.
I answered.
Her voice was barely audible.
"Victoria, I need to see you."
"Why?"
"Because Charles lied to me too."
"About what?"
"The money."
"What money?"
"The account he put in my name."
Samantha immediately began listening.
Courtney continued.
"I thought it was an investment account."
"How much?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you?"
A shaky breath.
"Your house."
I sat up.
"Why are you at my house?"
"Because I found something Charles hid here yesterday."
"What?"
"Documents."
"What documents?"
"They have Lucas's name on them."
Samantha held out her hand for the phone.
Before I could give it to her, Courtney whispered:
"Victoria, there's another signature."
My heart began pounding.
"Whose?"
Courtney didn't answer.
I heard a door open on her end.
Then Charles's voice.
"Courtney?"
May you like
She gasped.
The call went dead.
