Chapter 7 - The Boardroom
Dad did not speak for almost a full minute.
Marcus seemed to enjoy every second.
Finally, Dad looked at Thomas.
“How many votes?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Six to three.”
“Who called the meeting?”
“David.”
Dad laughed quietly.
“My attorney.”
“Former attorney,” I said.
Thomas looked at me.
His expression was apologetic.
“Isabella.”
“Did you vote for Marcus?”
He didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
Dad lowered himself into the desk chair.
Not because he was defeated.
Because his leg was trembling.
I watched him place both hands on the cane.
“Why?”
Thomas swallowed.
“The company is in trouble.”
Marcus rolled his eyes.
“Don’t dramatize it.”
Thomas looked at him.
“I’m not.”
That interested me.
“What kind of trouble?”
I asked.
Thomas glanced toward Vivian.
She spoke first.
“Temporary liquidity issues.”
“How temporary?”
No answer.
“Thomas?”
He rubbed his jaw.
“Three major lenders have requested additional collateral.”
Dad frowned.
“Why?”
Thomas looked miserable.
“Debt covenants.”
Dad’s voice sharpened.
“We weren’t close to our covenants before the accident.”
“We are now.”
“How?”
Marcus stepped forward.
“Expansion.”
Dad stared at him.
“What expansion?”
“Phoenix.”
Dad’s face drained.
“You closed Phoenix?”
“Last month.”
“You had no authority.”
“I had board authorization.”
“Based on whose recommendation?”
“Mine.”
Dad tried to stand.
Pain stopped him.
“You bought the Phoenix land?”
“Yes.”
“For how much?”
Marcus hesitated.
Thomas answered.
“One hundred eighty-two million.”
Dad went completely still.
Then he whispered.
“That parcel was appraised at ninety-four.”
Marcus’s face hardened.
“The appraisal was outdated.”
Dad looked at Thomas.
“Who sold it to us?”
Thomas closed his eyes briefly.
“Westbridge Holdings.”
I pulled out my phone.
“Who owns Westbridge?”
Nobody answered.
That was enough.
Ben sat at the study desk and began typing.
Thirty seconds later, he turned the screen toward me.
Westbridge Holdings LLC.
Registered in Delaware.
Manager listed through another LLC.
Then another.
Then another.
A layered structure.
But Ben smiled faintly.
“They got lazy.”
“What?”
“The registered mailing address on one subsidiary.”
He enlarged it.
Mercer Advisory Group.
David Mercer.
Dad looked at Marcus.
“You paid almost twice market value for land owned through a company connected to David?”
Marcus shook his head.
“I didn’t know he had an interest.”
Vivian spoke sharply.
“He doesn’t.”
Ben kept typing.
“Then this will be an interesting coincidence.”
Dad looked at Thomas.
“Why didn’t you stop it?”
Thomas’s eyes filled with shame.
“I tried.”
“You’re CFO.”
“The board approved it.”
“You could have called me.”
“I did.”
Dad stared.
“When?”
“Eight times.”
Dad slowly turned toward Vivian.
She said nothing.
Thomas continued.
“Every time, I was told you were sedated.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“You people are acting like there’s some conspiracy because Richard didn’t answer his phone.”
Dad slammed his cane against the floor.
“You spent one hundred eighty-two million dollars.”
Marcus stopped.
Dad’s voice rose.
“On land worth half that.”
“It’s a strategic development.”
“Then show me the plan.”
Marcus said nothing.
Dad stared at him.
“There isn’t one.”
I looked toward Thomas.
“What else?”
He hesitated.
“Tell him.”
Vivian stepped forward.
“He does not need this stress.”
Dad looked at her.
“I need the truth.”
Thomas reached into his briefcase.
“There have been twenty-three transfers from Hale Development accounts during the last nine months.”
“How much?”
“Forty-one million.”
Dad’s knuckles whitened around the cane.
“To whom?”
“Consulting vendors.”
“Which vendors?”
Thomas looked toward Marcus.
“Mostly entities he approved.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“That is normal business.”
Thomas snapped.
“No.”
It surprised everyone.
He had probably wanted to say that for months.
“No, Marcus.”
“You bypassed procurement.”
“You bypassed audit.”
“You bypassed my office.”
“You changed authorization thresholds.”
“And when I questioned you, David presented a power of attorney supposedly signed by Richard.”
Dad stared at him.
“What power of attorney?”
Thomas removed a copy.
Vivian moved.
I moved faster.
I took it.
Dad’s signature appeared at the bottom.
Notarized.
Witnessed.
Dated nine days after his accident.
I looked at Dad.
“Were you still in intensive care?”
“Yes.”
Thomas nodded.
“I checked.”
Dad’s face changed.
“I was intubated that day.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
I looked at Vivian.
Marcus.
Then Thomas.
“Who notarized this?”
He pointed.
Patricia Wynn.
I knew the name.
Not personally.
But I remembered it from the video Emily recorded.
The notary.
Ben searched.
Then he frowned.
“What?”
“Patricia Wynn died.”
“When?”
“Eleven days ago.”
My skin went cold.
Dad stared at him.
“How?”
Ben read.
“Single-car accident.”
Nobody spoke.
Another car accident.
Vivian’s face had changed.
Not triumph.
Not confidence.
Fear.
Real fear.
She sat down.
Marcus stared at her.
“Mom?”
She didn’t answer.
I watched her carefully.
Until that moment, I had assumed Vivian was the center of everything.
But now something had shifted.
She looked frightened by Patricia Wynn’s death.
Not surprised.
Frightened.
“Vivian.”
She looked at me.
“Did you know she died?”
No answer.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Mom.”
Vivian whispered.
“Yes.”
“How?”
She looked toward David’s photograph on Dad’s desk.
Then at us.
“She called me the night before.”
My pulse quickened.
“What did she say?”
Vivian’s voice dropped.
“She wanted more money.”
Dad stared at her.
“For what?”
Vivian closed her eyes.
“For keeping quiet.”
“About the forged power of attorney?”
Her eyes opened.
“I didn’t forge it.”
Marcus stared at her.
“But you knew?”
“I knew the signature wasn’t right.”
Dad looked like he had been struck.
“You used it anyway.”
Vivian’s voice cracked.
“For the company.”
“No.”
“For us.”
“No.”
“For everything we built.”
Dad laughed.
“You mean everything I built.”
The words cut.
Vivian stood.
Her composure returned in fragments.
“You think this is simple?”
“I think you used a forged document while I was unconscious.”
“You don’t know what was happening.”
“Then tell me.”
She looked around the room.
At Marcus.
At Thomas.
At me.
Then at Dad.
“David said the company would collapse unless we moved quickly.”
Thomas stared at her.
“That’s a lie.”
Vivian turned.
“He said lenders were preparing to seize assets.”
“They weren’t.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Dad looked at her.
“You believed David?”
“Yes.”
“More than me?”
“You were unconscious.”
“And after I woke up?”
She said nothing.
Dad closed his eyes.
Thomas’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
His face drained of color.
“What?”
I asked.
“The company’s primary lender just froze Hale Development’s revolving credit facility.”
Dad sat forward.
“Why?”
Thomas read again.
Then looked at Marcus.
“They discovered undisclosed related-party transactions tied to Westbridge.”
Marcus went pale.
Thomas continued.
“And the bank is demanding a formal investigation before markets open Monday.”
I looked at the clock.
Friday night.
We had less than seventy-two hours.
Dad looked at me.
“Izzy.”
“Yes?”
May you like
“Get me into my company.”
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