Chapter 7 - The Woman in the Navy Coat
Celia stared at the ledger.
For a long time, she didn't speak.
Sadi stood across the study.
Rafael was beside the door.
Gideon sat near the fireplace.
The page lay open on the desk.
Celia's signature appeared beneath a suspicious payment.
"Is that yours?" Sadi asked.
Celia looked up.
"No."
Sadi folded her arms.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Then why is your name on it?"
Celia took a breath.
"Because Adrian had access to my electronic approval credentials."
Rafael leaned forward.
"Did you authorize him?"
"No."
"Did you report the access?"
Celia hesitated.
Sadi's stomach dropped.
"You didn't."
Celia closed her eyes.
"I discovered unusual activity three weeks before the crash."
"And?"
"I confronted Adrian."
Sadi stared.
"What did he say?"
"He told me it was a system error."
Sadi laughed bitterly.
"Apparently that's everyone's favorite excuse."
Celia lowered her head.
"I should've escalated it."
"Yes."
"I know."
Sadi looked at Gideon.
Then at Celia.
"Your family keeps saying that after people die."
The words landed hard.
Celia's eyes filled.
"You're right."
Nobody spoke.
Then she opened her laptop.
"I preserved copies of my emails."
Rafael moved beside her.
Celia showed him a message she'd sent to the company's compliance department.
It documented unauthorized access to her approval account and requested an audit.
The message was dated three weeks before the crash.
An automated response confirmed receipt.
But the audit had never been completed.
"Who controlled compliance?" Rafael asked.
Celia looked at him.
"Adrian appointed the director."
Rafael nodded slowly.
"That may explain why the report stalled."
Celia continued.
"I also changed my password."
"Did that stop the activity?"
"For a while."
Sadi studied the ledger.
"Then the forged approval happened."
Celia nodded.
"Yes."
Investigators reviewed the emails, account logs, and electronic signature records.
The evidence suggested that someone had used Celia's credentials without her authorization.
It did not immediately establish who.
But the trail was growing.
Then Mateo Alvarez finally came forward.
He had been hiding with relatives in Idaho after receiving threats.
When investigators contacted him with information about the new evidence, he agreed to cooperate.
Mateo was fifty-two, with tired eyes and grease permanently embedded beneath his fingernails.
He had worked on helicopters for twenty-eight years.
He knew the difference between a worn component and a counterfeit one.
He also knew what happened when management ignored a mechanic's warning.
At the investigative office, he explained that he'd repeatedly flagged discrepancies in replacement parts.
The documentation showed genuine certified components.
But some of the physical items did not match their accompanying records.
He reported the problem.
His supervisor told him to stop causing trouble.
He reported it again.
He was suspended.
Then Hannah called him.
"She believed me," Mateo said.
His voice broke.
"She was the only one who believed me."
Sadi reached across the table.
"She believed people."
Mateo nodded.
"She did."
He provided copies of emails and photographs.
He also identified a warehouse where procurement records and replacement components had been stored.
Investigators obtained the necessary authorization to search it.
Inside, they discovered boxes of improperly documented aircraft parts.
Several carried labels inconsistent with their manufacturing records.
The technical investigation continued.
But the evidence supported concerns that the maintenance program had been compromised.
Sadi finally felt the first genuine movement toward answers.
Then Adrian Wren appeared on television.
He stood outside the company's headquarters wearing an expensive gray suit.
Reporters surrounded him.
He announced that Gideon Wren's health had deteriorated and questioned whether the founder could responsibly oversee the company.
He denied allegations of financial wrongdoing.
He also suggested that disgruntled employees and outside parties were attempting to exploit a family tragedy.
Sadi stared at the screen.
"He's talking about Hannah."
Rafael nodded.
"He's trying to undermine the allegations."
Adrian continued.
"Certain individuals have made sensational claims without understanding the complexities of aviation maintenance."
Sadi switched off the television.
Her hands shook.
"She died."
Gideon sat beside her.
His face was pale.
Sadi looked at him.
"He's using your silence."
Gideon reached for his notebook.
Then stopped.
His hand trembled.
He looked toward Celia.
"Da..."
Everyone froze.
Celia turned.
"Dad?"
Gideon swallowed.
His voice was rough.
Weak.
But audible.
"I... can... speak."
Tears filled Celia's eyes.
"Dad..."
Gideon looked at Sadi.
Then Rafael.
"Adrian... lied."
He struggled to continue.
Rafael approached.
"Don't strain yourself."
Gideon shook his head.
"Enough."
The room became silent.
He took a slow breath.
Then said:
"I want... to testify."
Sadi stared at him.
Celia began crying.
For six months, the founder had hidden behind silence.
May you like
Now he was choosing to speak.
And Adrian Wren had no idea that the man he'd tried to portray as incapable was preparing to tell investigators everything he knew.
