Chapter 6 - What Was Taken in Her Name
Norah stood in the middle of her borrowed kitchen and studied the addresses until the letters blurred. Her own apartment had been empty since she'd left for work on Tuesday. Someone could have gone there already. She called the appropriate authorities through Tessa rather than taking a taxi over to investigate. Then she texted Claire, who was staying with a friend as a precaution, and asked her not to return home until she heard from the investigator assigned to the threat.
“I hate this,” Claire wrote back. “I hate that your job is following me.”
“So do I,” Norah replied. It was the most honest conversation they'd had about Rossi Imports in years.
At Tessa's office the next morning, an investigator explained that the three address entries showed purchases and possible delivery destinations; they didn't prove devices had been installed. A consent-based check of Norah's apartment found nothing, but the lock showed signs of tampering. Norah documented the damage for her landlord. She had spent so much energy worrying about whether Vincent would imprison her in his glass office that she had overlooked the way other men could exploit the same culture of control.
Vincent came to Tessa's office at her request, not Norah's. The lawyer arranged separate waiting rooms and asked Norah whether she wanted to participate in a limited meeting. Norah said yes. She wanted to hear him answer questions in a room that did not belong to him.
He arrived without his usual entourage. The expensive suit was still there, but the certainty had gone from the way he stood. He paused by the open conference room door. “May I come in?”
“You may sit at the other end of the table,” Norah said.
He did. Tessa had placed a recorder in plain sight after obtaining agreement from those present for the meeting. Vincent slid a thick envelope across the table but did not push it toward Norah. “The expense reports Ellis kept off the main accounting server. I recovered them from the backups.”
“Who owns the records?” Tessa asked. “And how were they obtained?”
Vincent explained the access. His answers were deliberate and sometimes ugly. Ellis's side accounts contained payments for unauthorized couriers, security hardware, and 'reconciliation services' tied to diverted cargo. Vincent had approved the broad discretionary budget. He had not reviewed the purchases. For years, he'd relied on Ellis to make problems disappear, and Ellis had grown wealthy converting that power into a separate enterprise.
“Did you know medicine was being diverted?” Norah asked.
“No.”
“Did you know goods were being brought in without lawful paperwork?”
Vincent looked directly at Tessa's recorder. “Yes. I authorized some of that work.”
The admission did not transform him into a better man. It only removed one convenient lie. Norah felt grateful for the fact and angry that gratitude was even necessary. “I managed your routes,” she said. “You let me believe the exceptions were luxury goods and customs violations. Did it ever occur to you to find out what you were asking me to move?”
“Not often enough.”
“That's not an answer.”
“Then no. Not when I should have.”
Tessa intervened. Their discussion could not substitute for formal interviews, and Vincent needed independent legal counsel. He said he'd retained one and was preparing to provide the records through appropriate procedures. Norah didn't ask for a promise of immunity or vengeance. Neither would repair Elena Ruiz's missing deliveries or Jennifer's revoked access.
“There's one more thing,” Vincent said. “Ellis told Matteo you were meeting Arthur that night. He wanted me angry. He knows what I do when somebody challenges me in front of staff.”
“You smashed a vase,” Norah said. “Ellis didn't move your hand.”
Vincent lowered his gaze. “I know.”
“Do you? Because that's the part you're going to have to understand without my help.”
He accepted it without argument. She had expected an apology, a threat, an expensive gift, anything that would shift the burden onto her. Instead he asked what he should do with the names of two drivers who might be in danger. Tessa gave him the investigator's official contact details. He left the room before Norah did.
Afterward, Tessa asked whether the meeting had changed her mind about cooperating. “It changed my mind about how much he knew,” Norah said. “It didn't change my mind about what I saw.”
They worked through a timeline of her own actions. A shipment from three years earlier, an unmarked crate, a cash envelope. Then last month's refrigerated consignment and the forged authorization. Norah marked each item she knew personally, each she remembered imperfectly, and each she had inferred after reviewing new records. When she reached the line about the warehouse shortage, she stopped.
“I can't give them back the weeks they spent searching for supplies.”
“No,” Tessa said. “But you can stop treating your memory like a public relations document. That's how you give investigators something usable.”
Norah's official interview lasted most of the afternoon. She disclosed her compensation arrangement and her past involvement with suspicious import paperwork. She explained that she hadn't known about the missing medical inventory until Elena's report connected the records. She also explained the locked office, the destroyed flowers, the forged credentials, and the threat to Claire. She did not ask the investigators to pretend her past cooperation with the company had been harmless.
When she emerged, she found Jennifer waiting on a bench with an attorney of her own. Jennifer had brought copies of her contemporaneous notes and a payroll statement showing her access had been revoked twenty minutes after she refused Ellis's version of events. They hugged without speaking. It was the first time Norah had touched another person that week without worrying who might be watching.
Jennifer pulled back. “There's a reason I came in person. The overnight technician who worked on the server called me. He kept a copy of the request because Ellis ordered him to destroy the original.”
“Did he give it to investigators?” Norah asked.
“Yes. But he said something else. The server wasn't the only thing scheduled for removal.” Jennifer's face tightened. “At midnight tonight, they're decommissioning the refrigerated warehouse. Ellis called it a routine cleanup.”
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Norah knew the address. It was the last location on the manifests before cargo disappeared. Whatever had happened to the missing shipments, that warehouse might still hold the receiving records proving it.
At the bottom of the technician's work order was a name Norah recognized from years of approving invoices. The contractor listed to supervise the removal was Arthur Davies.
