Chapter 10 - The Letter from a Dead Man
I read Daniel's letter three times.
Then I sat on the garage floor and cried.
Not because it contained some impossible secret.
Because I recognized his voice in every sentence.
Careful.
Thoughtful.
Always more concerned about the people he loved than himself.
The letter was dated fourteen years earlier.
It referred to a business dispute from our early years.
Charles Whitmore had worked for a large equipment supplier that Meridian used before becoming a regional director for us.
During a difficult contract negotiation, Daniel had discovered that a purchasing intermediary was charging inflated fees.
Charles had been involved in introducing that intermediary.
Daniel couldn't prove Charles had knowingly participated in wrongdoing.
But he had remained suspicious.
The letter said:
I don't want you to punish a man for something we can't prove.
But if Charles ever asks for more authority over our company's money, remember that he was willing to ignore questions when ignoring them benefited him.
I closed my eyes.
Charles had joined Meridian five years after Daniel died.
His references had been strong.
His results had been impressive.
And his original connection to our early supplier dispute had never been brought to my attention.
At least, not in a way I remembered.
Rachel sat beside me.
"What does it mean?"
"It means your father had concerns about Charles long before you met Grant."
"Did Charles do something illegal?"
"I don't know."
She looked frightened.
"Mom, does this mean they've been after our family for years?"
"No."
I took her hand.
"It means we need to verify an old connection. We can't turn suspicion into fact just because we're hurt."
She nodded.
I photographed the letter.
Then I placed it and the original envelope in a protective folder.
I called Rebecca.
"There's a historical document you need to see."
I explained what we'd found.
Rebecca listened carefully.
"We'll have counsel review it and establish its provenance."
"Good."
"Where did it come from?"
"Daniel's personal papers."
She paused.
"Evelyn?"
"Yes?"
"Are you okay?"
I looked at Rachel.
Then at the old photograph.
"No," I said.
"But I will be."
The next day, Charles's attorney contacted Meridian.
Charles wanted to cooperate.
He offered access to his business records and requested an interview with the investigators.
Rebecca arranged it through counsel.
I did not attend.
Instead, I asked to be informed only of material findings that required shareholder action.
I wanted the investigation independent.
If Charles had broken company rules, he would face consequences.
If Grant had used his father's position without Charles's full knowledge, that needed to be established too.
By that evening, Rebecca called.
"Charles admitted something."
I closed my book.
"What?"
"He approved Northbridge invoices without adequate supporting documentation."
"Why?"
"He says Grant assured him the work had been performed and that he relied on his son's representations."
"That's not an acceptable control."
"No."
"Did he receive money?"
"He's denied it. The accountants haven't identified a personal payment to him so far."
I sighed.
"What about Diane?"
"Charles says he didn't know she had an ownership interest in one of the related entities."
I looked toward the window.
"Do you believe him?"
"That's not a conclusion I can make yet."
"Then keep investigating."
Rebecca hesitated.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Charles says Grant told him the consulting business had been approved by a member of your family."
I felt my pulse quicken.
"Rachel?"
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
"She never had that authority."
"We know."
"How did Grant convince him?"
"He showed him a document."
"What document?"
"A letter supposedly signed by Daniel Carter."
I sat motionless.
"Daniel has been dead for eleven years."
"I know."
"What was the letter dated?"
Rebecca told me.
I stared at the wall.
The date was four months after Daniel's death.
Someone had apparently used my dead husband's name to give credibility to a business arrangement.
I felt sick.
"Rebecca, send that document to counsel."
"Already done."
"And preserve the original source."
"Yes."
I hung up.
For several minutes, I sat in silence.
Then I walked into the living room.
Rachel was arranging the Christmas decorations we'd been too distracted to take down.
She looked up.
"Mom?"
I sat beside her.
"There's something I need to tell you about your father's name."
When I finished, she began crying.
Not the frightened tears she'd shed at the Whitmore mansion.
These were angry tears.
"He used Dad?"
I nodded.
"He appears to have used a letter bearing Dad's name."
Rachel stood.
"I want to confront Grant."
"No."
"Mom, he used my father."
"I know."
"He made me think Dad was dishonest."
"I know."
"And you're just going to sit here?"
I stood.
"No, sweetheart. I'm going to make sure the investigators have the facts."
She shook her head.
"That doesn't feel like enough."
"It may not feel satisfying."
I walked closer.
"But rushing to confront someone who has already threatened you could make things worse."
She covered her face.
Then she stepped into my arms.
I held her as she cried.
For a long time, we stayed that way.
That night, I received a message from Charles.
Mrs. Carter, I know I've failed your family. There is one thing I still need to tell you.
I forwarded it to Rebecca.
She contacted his attorney.
An hour later, she called me back.
Her voice sounded different.
"Evelyn, Charles has identified a storage unit Grant rented under another company's name."
I stood.
"What was inside?"
"Meridian files, according to Charles."
"What kind of files?"
"Copies of financial records, old contracts, and documents from Daniel's office."
I gripped the phone.
May you like
Then Rebecca added:
"Charles believes Grant intended to use them to pressure you into selling your controlling interest."
