Chapter 6 - Daniel Bellamy's Last File
The recording began with silverware.
Glasses.
A fire crackling somewhere in the Caldwell home.
Then Victoria Caldwell’s voice.
“You’re telling us Harrison intends to put the girl on the board?”
Adrian answered.
“He intends to do more than that.”
Charles spoke next.
“What?”
“Once Grace controls Daniel’s trust, Harrison effectively controls sixty-three percent of the voting shares with her support.”
Victoria laughed.
“She’s twenty-four.”
“She won’t control anything.”
Adrian’s voice remained calm.
“You’re making the same mistake Harrison is.”
“She isn’t stupid.”
Grace sat in Harrison’s study listening.
Marcus stood near the door.
Harrison remained behind his desk.
The recording continued.
Charles asked, “What exactly do you want us to do?”
Adrian said, “Remind the board she is unstable.”
Grace looked at Harrison.
His face went hard.
Victoria asked, “How?”
“Give her an opportunity to show them.”
Then came several seconds of silence.
Charles’s voice changed.
“I don’t like this.”
Adrian answered, “You like losing North Pier less.”
The recording skipped.
A chair moved.
Then Charles said something that made Harrison lean forward.
“We already did enough for your family.”
Adrian replied.
“My family did enough for yours.”
Charles lowered his voice.
“I’m talking about Daniel.”
Grace stopped breathing.
The next sound was a glass hitting a table.
Adrian’s voice was suddenly much colder.
“You should be extremely careful with that name.”
Then the recording ended.
Grace stared at the machine.
“That’s it?”
Brooke had said her mother stopped recordings whenever someone left the dining room.
The file lasted only eleven minutes.
But eleven minutes was enough.
Harrison looked devastated.
“Charles knows something.”
Grace stood.
“He’s known for twenty-four years.”
Marcus spoke quietly.
“We need to give this to the police.”
“We will.”
Grace looked at Harrison.
“But first I want to know what Dad was investigating.”
Harrison opened an old locked cabinet.
Inside were paper files.
Real paper.
No corporate server.
No cloud backup.
Documents from another era.
He removed a brown archive box.
DANIEL - 2002.
Grace touched the label.
Her father’s name.
Written in Harrison’s handwriting.
Inside were memos.
Invoices.
Letters.
Photographs.
Daniel had been methodical.
He marked vendor bills with red circles.
Three companies appeared repeatedly.
North Coast Development.
Atlas Hospitality Supply.
LJM Project Services.
All had billed Bellamy Hospitality for millions.
Most work related to hotel renovations.
Grace flipped through the records.
“Were these real companies?”
“Yes.”
Harrison said.
“They did real work.”
“That’s how the fraud hid.”
Grace answered.
“Mix fake charges into legitimate contracts.”
Harrison nodded slowly.
Daniel had seen it too.
Grace found a yellow legal pad.
Her father’s handwriting covered twelve pages.
Vendor overlap.
Duplicate equipment.
False delivery addresses.
Then one sentence was boxed three times.
FOLLOW MONEY THROUGH CALDWELL.
Grace looked up.
“Caldwell?”
Harrison’s face tightened.
“At the time, Charles’s father controlled a private lending company.”
“They financed several Bellamy projects.”
Grace turned the page.
A handwritten list contained initials.
M.L.
C.C.
R.V.
Then:
A.L.?
Grace stared at it.
“Adrian Locke?”
Harrison moved beside her.
“He was twenty-three.”
“Working for Bellamy?”
“Junior analyst.”
“Under his father.”
Grace kept reading.
One line near the bottom had been underlined.
ADRIAN ACCESSING VENDOR RECORDS AFTER MIDNIGHT.
Grace sat back.
“Dad suspected him too.”
Harrison said nothing.
Grace turned to the final sheet.
Most of the page was blank.
Only a short note appeared.
11 PM.
BELLAMY'S.
SAFE BOX 214.
IF H WON'T LISTEN, GO FEDERAL.
Grace looked at Harrison.
“What is Safe Box 214?”
“I don’t know.”
“It sounds like a safe-deposit box.”
“Maybe.”
“Did police check?”
“I never saw this page.”
Grace stared at him.
“What?”
“This wasn’t here twenty-four years ago.”
Harrison picked it up.
“I went through this file hundreds of times.”
“This page was not in the box.”
Grace felt cold.
“Then who put it there?”
Marcus walked toward the office door.
“No one has accessed this cabinet?”
Harrison shook his head.
“Only me.”
“Staff?”
“No.”
“Grace?”
“No.”
Marcus examined the cabinet.
Then the window.
Then the hallway camera.
Grace looked again at the mysterious page.
Someone had entered Harrison’s private study.
Someone had added a clue.
Someone wanted her looking into her father’s death.
But why?
Her phone rang.
This time the number displayed.
Charles Caldwell.
Grace answered.
Neither Harrison nor Marcus stopped her.
“Grace.”
Charles sounded strained.
“We need to meet.”
“You can speak to my attorney.”
“No.”
“This cannot go through lawyers.”
“Why?”
“Because there are things your grandfather doesn’t know.”
Grace looked at Harrison.
“What things?”
Charles breathed heavily.
“Your father didn’t die because of what he discovered.”
Grace gripped the phone.
“Then why?”
Charles answered.
May you like
“Because of who he trusted with the proof.”
The call disconnected.
