Chapter 3 - THE FILE THEY THOUGHT WAS BURIEDBy 7:05 the next morning, three people at Mercer Global believed Evan Mercer was still at the hospital.
He wasn't.
He entered company headquarters through the underground parking garage wearing the same clothes from the night before.
Marcus Reed, the company's chief security officer, was waiting beside the private elevator.
“You look terrible.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
Marcus had worked beside Evan for twelve years and was one of the few people in the company who could speak to him without polishing every sentence first.
He handed Evan a tablet.
“We locked the data.”
“All of it?”
“Everything you requested.”
“Did anyone notice?”
“Oh, yes.”
Evan looked up.
“Who?”
“Patricia Lorne tried accessing archived BrightStar invoices at 4:12 this morning.”
Evan stopped walking.
“Then?”
“She downloaded seventeen files.”
“Did she delete anything?”
“She tried.”
Marcus's expression hardened.
“Our backups caught it.”
They entered the elevator.
“How much money are we talking about?”
“We don't know yet.”
“Estimate.”
Marcus hesitated.
“Potentially millions.”
The elevator doors opened.
Evan stared at him.
“How?”
“BrightStar isn't the only subcontractor.”
They moved into a private conference room where stacks of documents covered the table.
Marcus explained.
For seven years, Mercer Global had outsourced janitorial, cafeteria, warehouse maintenance, and temporary clerical work to multiple vendors.
The invoices looked normal.
But the subcontractors were apparently billing Mercer Global for full labor costs while workers received substantially less.
Some of that discrepancy might be legitimate overhead.
Some wasn't.
Then Marcus showed Evan something worse.
“Look here.”
A consulting company called Northbridge Administrative Solutions received monthly payments from four vendors.
“Who owns Northbridge?” Evan asked.
“On paper? An LLC in Delaware.”
“Actually?”
“We're still tracing it.”
Evan flipped pages.
“Why would our compliance department approve payments tied to a vendor kickback?”
Marcus said nothing.
He didn't need to.
At 8:30, Patricia Lorne entered Evan's office without knocking.
She stopped when she saw Marcus.
“What's happening?”
Evan gestured toward the chair.
“Sit.”
“I have a board call.”
“Cancel it.”
“Evan—”
“Sit.”
She did.
For twenty-three years, Patricia had cultivated the kind of calm that made people assume she was innocent before she opened her mouth.
Silver-blond hair.
Immaculate navy suit.
No wasted movement.
“You froze vendor access,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Without compliance review.”
“Yes.”
“You can't conduct an internal investigation by yourself.”
“I'm not.”
Evan nodded toward Marcus.
“Security is assisting.”
Patricia looked offended.
“This is reckless.”
“Tell me about Elena Bennett.”
Her eyes barely changed.
“Who?”
Evan watched closely.
“The cleaner whose name you knew at two forty-one this morning.”
Patricia folded her hands.
“I explained that.”
“No. You gave me an excuse.”
“Careful.”
“No, Patricia. You be careful.”
He pushed copies of Elena's emails across the table.
Her expression remained composed.
“She contacted your department four months ago.”
“Yes.”
“You investigated?”
“We found no substantiated evidence.”
“Where's the case file?”
“Archived.”
“We searched.”
Silence.
“It isn't there.”
Patricia leaned back.
“Then someone failed to retain it.”
“Who?”
“I'll investigate.”
“Don't.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Excuse me?”
“You are under administrative restriction pending review.”
For the first time, genuine emotion crossed her face.
“You're suspending me?”
“I'm restricting system access.”
“On the word of a cleaner?”
“On the basis of financial records.”
“You're destroying your credibility.”
“And someone has been stealing from people who make eighteen dollars an hour.”
Patricia's expression chilled.
“You think corporations operate on sentiment?”
Evan stared.
“I think employees should receive the wages they're promised.”
“They aren't your employees.”
The sentence landed differently than she intended.
Evan leaned forward.
“That sounds remarkably rehearsed.”
Patricia stood.
“You should speak to the board before you continue this.”
“Why?”
“Because you own twenty-eight percent of Mercer Global.”
“I know.”
“You don't own fifty-one.”
Evan's eyes narrowed.
Patricia picked up her purse.
“You founded this company, Evan. That doesn't make you untouchable.”
After she left, Marcus whistled quietly.
“That felt like a threat.”
“It was.”
At 9:14, Elena called.
Evan answered immediately.
“How are you?”
“Alive.”
“And the girls?”
“Norah is teaching Lucy to eat hospital oatmeal, so possibly less alive.”
Despite everything, Evan smiled.
Then Elena's voice changed.
“Somebody went into my apartment.”
The smile disappeared.
“What?”
“My neighbor called. Door was open this morning.”
“Are you there?”
“No.”
“Stay at the hospital.”
“My medications are ready for discharge.”
“Don't leave until Marcus sends someone.”
“I don't need a security detail.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Mr. Mercer—”
“Evan.”
Silence.
“Evan. Someone broke into my apartment because of those papers, didn't they?”
“We don't know.”
“You know.”
He didn't lie.
“Probably.”
Elena inhaled shakily.
“My daughters sleep there.”
“I know.”
She sounded angry now.
“Do you?”
The question stopped him.
“You get to freeze accounts and call security. I get to wonder whether someone knows which bedroom my six-year-old sleeps in.”
Evan closed his eyes.
“You're right.”
Her anger softened slightly.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Don't go home.”
“And go where?”
Evan looked through his office window toward Manhattan.
“I have a guest apartment.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I am not moving into a billionaire's apartment.”
“Technically it's an apartment my company keeps for executives visiting New York.”
“That somehow makes it worse.”
“There's security.”
“I don't want my daughters becoming part of your scandal.”
“They already are.”
He regretted the sentence immediately.
Elena went quiet.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
Another silence.
Then Lucy cried in the background.
Elena exhaled.
“How long?”
“Until we know you're safe.”
“Two nights.”
“Fine.”
“Not one day longer.”
“Fine.”
Neither believed that would be the end of it.
At noon, Marcus entered Evan's office holding a folder.
“We found Northbridge.”
Evan looked up.
“And?”
Marcus placed the ownership documents on the desk.
Northbridge Administrative Solutions belonged through two shell entities to a family trust.
The beneficiary was Martin Harlan's brother.
“That proves Harlan,” Evan said.
“Keep reading.”
Evan turned the page.
A second beneficiary had been added three years earlier.
He stared at the name.
Daniel Mercer.
His older cousin.
A Mercer Global board member.
Evan slowly sat back.
Daniel had been there when Evan launched his first warehouse with twelve employees and two used trucks.
Daniel had invested when banks wouldn't.
Daniel had stood beside Evan at his father's funeral.
And now his name was attached to a company receiving money from contractors accused of stealing employee wages.
Marcus watched him.
“Could be coincidence.”
“No.”
“You don't know yet.”
“I know Daniel.”
“That cuts both ways.”
Evan stood.
“Where is he?”
“Coming in for the emergency board session.”
“When?”
Marcus looked at his watch.
“Forty minutes.”
The boardroom filled at 1:00.
Daniel arrived last.
Fifty years old, expensive gray suit, confident smile.
He walked toward Evan and opened his arms.
“I hear you're setting the building on fire over some janitorial complaint.”
Evan didn't hug him.
Daniel's smile faded.
“What's wrong?”
Evan placed the Northbridge documents in front of him.
“Tell me.”
Daniel looked down.
For half a second—perhaps less—fear crossed his face.
Then it vanished.
“I've never seen this.”
“You're a beneficiary.”
“Then someone's using my name.”
“Who?”
“How should I know?”
Evan watched him carefully.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Cousin, you're exhausted.”
“Don't.”
“Let's handle this privately.”
“It already is private.”
“I mean family private.”
That was when Evan knew.
Not everything.
But enough.
“You knew.”
Daniel's face hardened.
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
“How much?”
“Stop.”
“How much money did you take?”
Daniel leaned across the table.
“Do you have any idea how many people eat because this company survives?”
“What does that have to do with stealing wages?”
“Everything.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“You built an empire, Evan. Empires aren't clean.”
Evan stared at him.
“No.”
He pushed the file back across the table.
“Cowards just say that when they want someone poorer to pay for their lifestyle.”
Daniel's jaw clenched.
“You think this is about my lifestyle?”
“Enlighten me.”
But before Daniel could answer, the boardroom doors opened.
A legal assistant entered carrying a sealed envelope.
“For Mr. Mercer.”
Evan accepted it.
He read the first page.
Then again.
Daniel smiled.
“What is it?”
Evan looked up.
A special board meeting had been called for 8:00 the following morning.
Agenda:
Removal of Evan Mercer as Chief Executive Officer for breach of fiduciary duty, unauthorized corporate expenditures, and reputational misconduct.
Daniel adjusted his cuff.
“You wanted to investigate.”
May you like
His voice was quiet.
“Now you'll get to find out how many people still want you in charge.”
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