Chapter 5 - Seven Red Flags
Jonah met us in Ruth's office, not at Wardbridge. He was fifty-one, exhausted, and carrying a paper folder so overstuffed its corners had split.
“I've been trying to raise this for months,” he said. “Everett calls every question disloyal.”
The seven transfers totaled nine million more than the fourteen we'd already spotted. Each used a different description: marketing, international partnerships, strategic consulting. Several invoices shared the same phone number. Two named entities that had been incorporated only days before payment.
“Did you authorize them?” Ruth asked.
“I refused three. My deputy's account was used to approve them anyway.”
“Then we need an independent forensic review. And you need to preserve the originals.”
Jonah looked at me. “I have a daughter in college. If he fires me, I don't know what we do.”
“Tell the truth,” I said. “We'll follow the company's whistleblower procedures. No promises I can't legally make, but I won't let anyone punish you for reporting this.”
He nodded, though his hands still shook.
That afternoon, I went to the old warehouse where Wardbridge had built its first prototype. I hadn't visited in years. An engineer named Lila recognized me and showed me a wall covered with photos of employees who had been there from the start.
In one picture Everett wore a thrift-store blazer and held a crooked cardboard sign that read WE DID IT. I was standing next to him, laughing, my hair tied back with a pencil.
“He used to remember everyone's kids,” Lila said. “Now he doesn't know the receptionist's name.”
“I should have noticed sooner.”
“He stopped letting people tell him things. That isn't on you alone.”
My phone vibrated. A notification from the company's bank warned that its revolving credit line was being reviewed after abnormal activity.
A missed payment could freeze supplier deliveries by Friday. Patients depended on the hospitals Wardbridge served. This wasn't a game between two spouses anymore.
I called Ruth. “We need the board in the room before tomorrow's opening bell.”
She went silent for a beat.
“Grace, Everett found out Harborline is requesting the meeting. He's filed a complaint claiming its beneficial owner is an undisclosed competitor.”
May you like
“Who told him there was a beneficial owner?”
“That's the problem,” Ruth said. “His complaint names you.”
