Chapter 9 - The Letter That Disappeared
Isabella asked me to meet her at the foundation's modest South Loop office, not Vincent's glass headquarters.
The first thing I noticed was a map covered with handwritten route changes. The second was how easily she moved her wheelchair around the desks. Someone had designed the place for her, not added a ramp as an afterthought.
She watched Maureen's video twice. On the second pass, she paused at Victoria's hand near the wheel.
"I remember the chair rolling," she said. "I thought the carpet sloped."
Vincent paced by the window. "You should've told me."
"I am telling you now. Sit down and listen."
He sat.
"Daniel mailed me a report," Isabella said. "I learned of it when he called after his injury. My staff checked the incoming log and found a delivery, but no document. The envelope was signed for by my executive assistant, Ruth Mercer."
"Did you ask her?" I said.
"She claimed she'd passed it to outside counsel for review. Counsel denied receiving it. Then Ruth quit."
Vincent looked uncomfortable. "Our outside counsel also represented Harborline on an unrelated contract last year. I should have caught that conflict."
"You should have," Isabella said, without letting him off the hook.
I liked her more for saying it.
Lena joined us with an update: the transport authority had requested inspection records, but Harborline's internal system showed Vehicle 18 marked as safe.
"Who changed it?" I asked.
"We don't know yet," she said. "The records need to be preserved and independently reviewed."
Isabella pushed an empty folder toward me. On its tab, in her own neat writing, were two words: DANIEL CARTER.
May you like
"I kept a place for the truth," she said. "Now we need to find it."
Just then Lena's phone buzzed. Van 18 had left the garage that morning after all.
