Chapter 3 - The Contract With Her Name
Selena lied.
“Wrong number.”
Dempster knew immediately.
She could tell.
But he did not challenge her.
That frightened her more than suspicion would have.
Alidoro left after Dempster’s security team discovered the attorney was attempting to record the encounter. Selena returned upstairs with her mother’s envelope clutched against her chest.
She locked the bedroom door.
Then she opened it.
Inside was not a letter.
It was a bank statement.
Dated twelve years earlier.
A transfer of $750,000 from Flores Maritime Holdings to Roundtree Consulting.
Recipient: Marianne Roundtree.
Selena’s mother.
Beneath it was a handwritten note.
If anything happens to me, find Gabriel Flores. He knows what they did.
Selena read it three times.
Gabriel Flores.
Dempster’s father.
She searched the name.
Gabriel had died nine years ago.
Two years after Selena’s mother.
Both were dead.
Both had apparently shared a secret.
A knock came.
“Selena.”
Dempster.
She folded the paper.
“What?”
“Your sister is here.”
Selena opened the door.
Brooke nearly tackled her.
“What the hell happened?”
For twenty minutes, Selena explained.
Not everything.
Not the phone call.
Not the letter.
Brooke alternated between horror and staring suspiciously at Dempster.
Finally she pointed at him.
“You married my intoxicated sister?”
Dempster nodded.
“Temporarily, if she wishes.”
Brooke blinked.
“That may be the creepiest respectful answer I've ever heard.”
Selena rubbed her forehead.
Dempster placed annulment documents on the table.
Already prepared.
Unsigned.
“You can have independent counsel review them.”
Selena stared.
“You prepared these this morning?”
“Before you woke.”
“Why?”
“Because sober Selena gets to decide what drunk Selena did.”
Brooke stopped glaring at him for approximately three seconds.
Selena picked up the documents.
No penalty.
No confidentiality requirement.
No claim against her technology.
Nothing.
The marriage could disappear.
She should have signed immediately.
Instead she asked, “Why were you looking for me?”
Dempster glanced at Brooke.
“She stays,” Selena said.
He nodded.
“My father kept a private archive. Six months ago, I found your name.”
Selena felt cold.
“My name?”
“Not exactly.”
He opened his phone and showed her a scanned page.
PROJECT ROUND TREE.
Under it:
M.R. — primary architect.
G.F. — logistics.
S.R. — protected beneficiary.
Selena stared at the initials.
“M.R. was my mother.”
“I believe so.”
“And S.R.?”
“You.”
Brooke whispered, “Protected from what?”
Dempster looked toward the windows.
“My father wasn't always a legitimate businessman.”
Selena almost laughed.
“Breaking news.”
His gaze returned to her.
“He helped move money for people who were much worse.”
“What people?”
“A consortium involving shipping companies, private lenders and organized crime.”
“Your mafia.”
“My father’s associates.”
“That's an elegant distinction.”
“It matters.”
He explained that Gabriel eventually discovered the consortium was laundering money through legitimate logistics contracts. Marianne Roundtree, a forensic accountant, had uncovered the same network.
Together they built a system to trace the transactions.
Selena’s mother had not merely been an accountant.
She had been preparing evidence.
Then she died.
Car accident.
Selena remembered police calling it mechanical failure.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying my father never believed her death was an accident.”
Brooke covered her mouth.
Selena felt suddenly furious.
“At whom?”
“I don't know.”
“You know everything else.”
“No.”
Dempster’s voice sharpened for the first time.
“And that has bothered me for nine years.”
Silence.
Then Brooke asked, “Where does Alidoro fit?”
Dempster placed another document down.
“His father was one of the consortium’s attorneys.”
Selena stared.
Alidoro had not met her accidentally.
The realization arrived slowly.
Their first meeting at a conference.
His interest in her work.
His encouragement to revive her mother’s old consulting files.
His insistence that she build the predictive system.
“Oh my God.”
Dempster watched her.
“He dated me for access.”
“We don't know that.”
“I do.”
She suddenly remembered Alidoro asking whether her mother had kept old hard drives.
She had thought he was interested in family history.
He had been searching.
Selena stood.
“I want every document.”
“You’ll have them.”
“Every file with my mother’s name.”
“Yes.”
“And I want to know who called me.”
Dempster’s eyes narrowed.
Brooke turned.
“You said wrong number.”
Selena told them.
The nickname.
The warning.
For the first time, Dempster looked genuinely alarmed.
“Only your mother knew it?”
“My sister did,” Brooke said. “And me.”
“Anyone else?”
Selena thought.
One person.
A woman who used to babysit them.
A friend of their mother’s.
She had disappeared after Marianne’s funeral.
“Celia.”
Brooke went pale.
“Celia Voss.”
Dempster immediately called security.
“Find her.”
A guard answered seconds later.
“Sir, we already have something.”
Dempster put the call on speaker.
“A woman arrived at the south gate ten minutes ago.”
Selena’s heartbeat accelerated.
“What woman?”
“She refused to give her name.”
Dempster looked toward Selena.
The guard continued.
“She said to tell Mrs. Flores that Marianne Roundtree did not die in the car accident.”
Selena couldn't move.
May you like
Then came the final words.
“She says Marianne was murdered.”
