Chapter 9 - The Hidden Inbox
Maya opened the account from a clean laptop.
There were seventeen messages.
All sent by Daniel to himself over the last fourteen months.
Invoices.
Board minutes.
Wire confirmations.
Photographs of Harold's handwritten notes.
"He was collecting evidence," Evelyn said.
"Or insurance," Maya replied.
The final email had been sent two hours before our wedding ceremony.
Subject: IF CLAIRE SAYS NO.
Inside was a scan of the postnup and a message to Victor Sloan:
DO NOT SEND THIS TO HER UNTIL AFTER CEREMONY. SHE'LL WALK.
Daniel had known exactly what would happen if I saw it.
He married me first.
Then planned to corner me.
The inbox also contained a spreadsheet showing transfers scheduled for that morning.
Eighteen million dollars was being moved out of Carter Meridian benefit reserves into four vendor accounts.
"Can we stop it?" Evelyn asked.
Maya shook her head. "Not ourselves. But we can preserve evidence and get the right people moving."
I called my director, Mark, and told him the fraud issue was bigger than our internal review.
Then I called Officer Patel and gave her the evidence relevant to the assault and threats.
Maya contacted a corporate-litigation partner who could seek emergency relief for Evelyn as a shareholder.
That was when Evelyn finally told us something she had hidden all night.
"I own thirty-eight percent of Carter Meridian voting stock."
"Harold always told everyone he controlled the company."
"He controls the board because I stopped voting years ago."
"Why?"
She touched her fractured cheek.
"Because every time I fought him, Daniel paid for it."
Maya leaned forward.
"Do you still have voting rights?"
"Unless Harold filed something I never signed."
Her phone rang.
A board assistant she hadn't spoken to in years.
Evelyn answered.
Her expression changed almost immediately.
"When?"
She listened.
Then she looked at us.
"The board is meeting at noon to approve an emergency transfer and remove me for incapacity."
Maya checked the time.
10:41 a.m.
May you like
Evelyn stood.
"Then I guess after thirty-two years, I'm going back to work."
