GET OUT, HE TOLD HIS WIFE AND TWINS—THREE HOURS LATER, HE REGRETTED EVER CLOSING THAT DOOR

The list was not enough to identify the person who held final authority over Lantern Strategic Holdings.

It was enough to prove that Victor Shaw had been keeping records of people he considered useful.

Paige's name appeared beside dates corresponding to the anonymous messages, the school incident, and the discovery of Evelyn's files.

Marcus's name appeared beside meetings he had attended without understanding their purpose.

Celeste's name appeared beside the phrase personal access.

The investigators believed Victor had been coordinating the financial scheme for years, but they suspected he was answering to someone else.

Someone who had the authority to approve payments, direct contractors, and keep their identity hidden even from Victor.

“Who could that be?” Marcus asked during a meeting with Rachel and Daniel.

“Someone with access to the original foundation structure,” Daniel said. “Someone who knew your father's business and understood the family's internal arrangements.”

Marcus looked at the list.

“My father is dead. My mother is dead. The foundation's original accountant retired years ago.”

“Who helped your father establish the foundation?” Paige asked.

Marcus thought for a moment.

“Arthur Bell. He was the family's attorney for more than thirty years.”

Daniel opened a search window.

“Arthur Bell died six years ago.”

“His firm still exists,” Marcus said. “His former partner took over the practice.”

Rachel made a note.

“We can ask investigators to examine the firm's historical records through the proper process.”

That afternoon, Paige received a call from a woman named Margaret Ellis, a retired administrator who had worked for the foundation during its first decade.

“I saw you at the gala,” Margaret said. “I thought you should know that Evelyn was frightened before she died.”

Paige sat upright.

“Frightened of whom?”

“I don't know. She never said. But she asked me to make copies of the foundation's original board minutes. She told me to keep them separate from the official archive.”

“Do you still have them?”

“I do.”

Paige looked at Rachel, who had joined the call with Margaret's permission.

“Please don't bring the documents anywhere yet,” Rachel said. “We'll arrange a secure, documented transfer.”

Margaret agreed.

Two days later, the minutes arrived.

They revealed that the foundation's investment structure had been changed at a special meeting held shortly before Thomas Ward's death. The meeting authorized the creation of Crown Harbor Services and gave an unnamed committee power to approve certain security contracts without the full board's knowledge.

The committee consisted of three people.

Victor Shaw.

Richard Hale.

And a third member identified only by initials.

M. H.

Marcus stared at the page.

“My father used M.H. for my mother. But she was listed as deceased by then.”

“Could it have been someone else?” Paige asked.

“Possibly.”

Daniel examined the signature beneath the initials.

“The ink and signature block suggest this was added later. The minutes may have been altered.”

Rachel nodded.

“We'll have the original document examined.”

Before they could continue, Marcus's phone rang.

It was his uncle, Peter Hale.

Peter had lived in Boston for most of Marcus's adult life and rarely involved himself in family affairs. He had attended the gala, but left before the confrontation with Victor.

“What is this nonsense about the foundation?” Peter demanded.

Marcus put the call on speaker with his uncle's permission.

“I'm investigating suspicious transfers.”

“You should have called me first.”

“Why?”

“Because your father made arrangements that were never intended to be examined by outsiders.”

Paige felt the room change.

Marcus leaned forward.

“What arrangements?”

Peter sighed.

“Your father believed the family needed a private reserve. The foundation was used to move money discreetly, but the money was supposed to protect the company during emergencies.”

“Then why did it go to Crown Harbor?”

“I don't know.”

“You were on the board.”

“I was an honorary member. I didn't handle the accounts.”

“Who was M.H.?”

Peter went silent.

Then he said, “Your father had a second set of books.”

Marcus gripped the phone.

“Where?”

“I don't know where they are now. But Arthur Bell kept a copy.”

“Arthur is dead.”

“His firm has a storage facility in Boston. Your father once told me that if the family ever began tearing itself apart, the truth would be found in a file marked Harbor.”

The call ended.

Paige looked at Rachel.

“We need that file.”

Rachel nodded.

“We'll request it through the investigation.”

But before she could make the call, a message arrived from Margaret Ellis.

Someone has been asking about the old board minutes. He said his name was Arthur Bell's successor.

The message included a photograph taken through Margaret's front window.

A dark sedan sat at the curb.

Behind the glass, a man stood beside the driver's door.