Chapter 4 - The Man Inside My Company
I stared at the photograph until the faces blurred.
Marcus Webb.
Victor Lang.
And Aaron Cole.
My CFO.
Aaron had worked for Northline Systems for three years.
He knew our banking structure.
He knew my companies.
He knew what I owned.
And most importantly, he knew that C.H. Residential Holdings belonged to me.
Rachel arrived at my hotel within thirty minutes.
Nathan joined by video call.
I forwarded the photograph.
“Could be manipulated,” Nathan warned.
“Check it.”
“We will.”
Rachel asked, “Any reason Aaron would know Daniel?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Could they have met through you?”
“Company events. Maybe twice.”
I thought back.
Christmas dinner.
A charity fundraiser.
Northline's fifth-anniversary celebration.
Daniel had attended all three.
Had he spoken to Aaron?
Probably.
I had never paid attention.
At 8:00 a.m., I entered Northline's headquarters without warning anyone except building security.
Aaron's office was empty.
His assistant looked surprised to see me.
“Is Aaron in?”
“He called out.”
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“Reason?”
“Family emergency.”
Of course.
I went directly to IT.
“Freeze his administrative access.”
Our security director looked startled.
“All of it?”
“Immediately.”
Within five minutes, Aaron's company credentials were disabled.
Within fifteen, our internal audit team started reviewing account access logs.
By noon, we had our first problem.
Aaron had accessed financial documents related to my holding companies nine times over the previous six months.
That alone was not necessarily improper.
As CFO, he had legitimate reasons.
But three access dates aligned suspiciously with Daniel's conversations with Victor.
One was the day before Victor first contacted Daniel.
Another was two hours before the forged property lien paperwork was generated.
Nathan called.
“The photograph is likely authentic.”
My stomach tightened.
“Likely?”
“Metadata is consistent. No obvious manipulation.”
“Where was it taken?”
“A private bank branch in Connecticut.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
I leaned back.
Six weeks.
Before Daniel's forged lien.
After his investment losses.
Rachel asked the obvious question.
“Was Aaron helping them identify assets?”
“We don't know.”
But the possibility made me furious.
Not because of the money.
Because someone inside the business I had built may have used confidential information to target my family.
At 1:30, Aaron finally called me.
“Claire, I heard my account isn't working.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Come to the office.”
“I told Melissa I have a family emergency.”
“This is a company emergency.”
Silence.
“What happened?”
“Come in.”
“I can probably be there tomorrow.”
“Today.”
His voice changed.
“Is this about Daniel?”
There it was.
I said nothing.
Aaron immediately realized his mistake.
“Claire—”
“You have one hour.”
He hung up.
He never arrived.
At 2:47, building security reported Aaron's company access badge had been found in a trash can at a commuter rail station.
His phone went straight to voicemail.
Rachel contacted investigators.
By evening, Northline had retained outside forensic specialists.
We found something worse.
Aaron had exported several internal records.
Not customer information.
Not software.
Ownership reports.
Property holdings.
Insurance values.
Executive compensation.
Personal asset summaries.
Mine.
“Why would a CFO steal this?” I asked.
Nathan answered quietly.
“To identify people worth targeting.”
The room went silent.
My company had forty-three senior employees.
Many had stock options.
Several owned homes outright.
Some had investment portfolios managed through programs Aaron administered.
If he was feeding financial profiles to people like Victor, I might not be the only target.
I ordered a complete review.
Daniel arrived at headquarters around seven.
Security called me before letting him upstairs.
I almost refused.
Then I changed my mind.
He entered the conference room holding his phone and a stack of printed messages.
“I remembered where I met Aaron.”
I stared at him.
“Where?”
“Marcus's investment dinner.”
Every person in the room stopped moving.
“When?”
“Last November.”
“Aaron was there?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I forgot.”
“You forgot my CFO attended the meeting where you were persuaded to invest?”
“He wasn't introduced as your CFO.”
“What?”
Daniel placed the phone on the table.
“I knew he looked familiar. But I had only met him a couple times. Marcus introduced him as Aaron C.”
My skin prickled.
“What did Aaron say?”
“Almost nothing. He was there maybe twenty minutes.”
Nathan asked, “Did Marcus seem to know him well?”
“Yes.”
“Victor?”
“He wasn't there.”
“Did Aaron discuss Northline?”
“No.”
“Claire?”
“No.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Did he talk to you privately?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
My jaw tightened.
“About what?”
“He asked whether being married to a successful entrepreneur made me feel like I was living in your shadow.”
The room became quiet.
Daniel looked ashamed even repeating it.
“And what did you say?”
“I joked about it.”
“What kind of joke?”
“That people assumed the house was yours because you made more money.”
My stomach dropped.
“He asked about the house?”
“Not directly.”
“But you told him.”
“Yes.”
Pieces aligned.
Aaron knew Daniel felt insecure.
He knew Daniel had access to my documents.
He knew our assets.
Maybe this had never been random.
Maybe Daniel had been selected.
Manipulated.
That did not erase his choices.
But it changed the shape of the danger.
At nine, investigators called Rachel.
They had located Marcus.
Not arrested.
Located.
Airport security footage showed him arriving in Miami two days earlier.
No departure record after that.
Victor's companies were now under review.
And Aaron had withdrawn $48,000 in cash that morning.
He was gone.
I returned to the hotel exhausted.
Margaret was waiting in the lobby.
I almost turned around.
Then I saw the envelope in her hand.
“What are you doing here?”
“I found something.”
She handed it to me.
Inside were papers Daniel had left at her house months earlier.
Among them was a handwritten note.
Three names.
Marcus.
Victor.
A.C.
Beside A.C. was a number.
5%.
I looked at Margaret.
“Where did you find this?”
“In Daniel's old briefcase.”
“Did he know you had it?”
“No.”
At the bottom of the page was another line.
TARGET: C.H. RESIDENTIAL.
My blood ran cold.
This wasn't an investment gone wrong.
Someone had identified my property before Daniel ever approached Victor for a loan.
Margaret whispered, “Claire... were they using my son to get to you?”
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated.
A security alert.
Someone had attempted to access Northline's restricted financial archive using Aaron's disabled credentials.
The attempt failed.
Then a second alert appeared.
Different credentials.
Successful login.
Employee name:
DANIEL HAYES.
I looked up.
Daniel was supposed to be at his apartment across town.
May you like
Then the system displayed the location of the login.
My house.
