Chapter 6 - The CFO's Impossible Story|
Martin Hale had spent thirty years cultivating the image of a man who belonged in every room he entered.
He wore perfectly tailored suits, spoke softly, and never appeared hurried. Investors trusted him. Employees feared disappointing him. Even Cameron, who questioned nearly everyone, had relied on his judgment.
Now my mother's letter suggested that Martin had been present on the night she died.
Cameron called him into a private meeting at Reed Global headquarters.
I went with him.
Martin entered the conference room carrying a leather folder.
“Cameron. Emma. I assume this concerns the old foundation.”
“It concerns Margaret Carter,” Cameron replied.
Martin's expression barely changed.
“I remember the name.”
“You were involved in her investigation.”
“I reviewed several foundation accounts. That was decades ago.”
I placed my mother's letter on the table.
“Why did she write that you were there the night she died?”
For the first time, Martin looked directly at me.
“Your mother was under tremendous pressure. She may have confused events.”
“Did you know her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you threaten her?”
“No.”
“Did you arrange her accident?”
His face hardened.
“Absolutely not.”
Cameron leaned forward.
“Then explain the payments to the company that investigated her.”
Martin opened his folder and removed several pages.
“The foundation was mismanaged. Your father asked me to identify irregularities. I found evidence that Andrew Reed had diverted funds before his death. Margaret was assisting him.”
“Andrew was trying to expose fraud,” Cameron said.
“That's what she believed.”
Martin claimed Andrew had borrowed money from the foundation and hidden it through shell companies. Richard had ordered an internal investigation, and Margaret had become involved after discovering inconsistencies.
“Why was she threatened?” I demanded.
“I never threatened her.”
“Then why did she leave behind a recording of Richard demanding that she sign a false statement?”
Martin's composure faltered.
He looked at Cameron.
“Your father was trying to prevent a scandal. He believed the company would collapse if the accounts became public.”
“And you helped him?”
“I was trying to save thousands of jobs.”
“By destroying my mother's credibility?”
Martin stood.
“This conversation is over.”
Cameron didn't stop him.
Instead, he asked one question.
“Who was driving the second car?”
Martin froze.
It lasted only a second, but I saw it.
Then he turned toward the door.
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
After he left, Cameron requested an independent audit of the foundation's surviving accounts. He also instructed Daniel to preserve every relevant record.
But by the afternoon, the company's board had received an anonymous complaint accusing Cameron of using corporate resources to investigate his fiancée's family and an employee's personal history.
The complaint included photographs of Cameron leaving my apartment.
One headline had already appeared on a business gossip site:
BILLIONAIRE CEO'S MIDNIGHT VISIT TO FEMALE ASSISTANT SPARKS SCANDAL.
I stared at the screen.
“This is going to make everything look like a personal vendetta.”
“That's exactly what they want,” Cameron replied.
His phone rang.
The board chair demanded an emergency meeting.
Before Cameron could answer, another message arrived from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph of Martin Hale standing beside a black sedan outside a hospital.
The date matched the night my mother died.
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Beneath the image was a single sentence:
MARTIN WASN'T THE DRIVER. HE WAS THE MAN WHO PAID HIM.
