Chapter 11 - THE MOTHER WHO CHOSE THE WRONG SON
Sebastian dislocated his shoulder.
Two fractured ribs.
Smoke inhalation.
Nothing fatal.
He hated the hospital anyway.
By nine the next morning, he was demanding discharge papers.
Valerie stood beside the window.
“You have two fractured ribs.”
“I own a bed at home.”
“The bed doesn’t have nurses.”
“I can hire nurses.”
“You hate strangers in your house.”
“I can fire them after.”
Valerie stared.
Sebastian sighed.
“I’m staying.”
“Good.”
He looked pleased with himself.
“I chose that voluntarily.”
“Of course.”
The hospital door opened.
Evelyn entered.
Sebastian’s expression changed.
“Did they find Adrian?”
“No.”
Valerie stood.
“What do you mean no?”
“The vehicle was registered to a Ward subsidiary.”
Evelyn placed a folder on the table.
“Adrian says it was stolen.”
Sebastian laughed.
“Of course.”
“He has witnesses placing him at dinner in Manhattan.”
“How many witnesses?”
“Six.”
“Paid?”
“Probably.”
Valerie looked at Evelyn.
“You don’t believe him.”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Sebastian noticed.
“So what happens now?”
Evelyn sat.
“Emergency board meeting.”
“Again?”
“Adrian plans to remove you permanently.”
Sebastian’s mouth curved.
“He’s persistent.”
“He also has something he didn’t have before.”
“What?”
“Control of Ward voting trust.”
Sebastian sat up.
Pain crossed his face.
Valerie moved instinctively.
He waved her off.
“How?”
Evelyn looked down.
“I signed proxy authority yesterday.”
Silence.
Sebastian stared at her.
“You what?”
“I signed before the fire.”
“Why?”
“To stop him from forcing a sale.”
Sebastian laughed in disbelief.
“You gave Adrian voting control?”
“Temporarily.”
“Mother.”
“I thought I could contain him.”
“You thought wrong.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
That surprised him.
Evelyn continued.
“He threatened to expose the Bell documents if I didn’t.”
Valerie stared.
“You knew he had them?”
“I suspected.”
“You gave him more power?”
“I believed he only wanted the company.”
Sebastian’s voice was cold.
“And now?”
“Now I think he wants to destroy every piece of evidence that can prove how he got it.”
Valerie frowned.
“Adrian was seventeen when Charles died.”
“Yes.”
“He couldn’t have created the original fraud.”
“No.”
“Then why protect it?”
Evelyn looked at Sebastian.
“Because Malcolm left him everything.”
“What everything?”
“Not money.”
“Information.”
Sebastian understood.
“The hidden accounts.”
“Yes.”
“Adrian inherited whatever Malcolm stole.”
“Yes.”
“And if Bell’s twenty-two percent is restored…”
Evelyn finished.
“Years of transactions become reviewable.”
Valerie’s eyes narrowed.
“He could go to prison.”
“Yes.”
Sebastian looked at his mother.
“Can you revoke the proxy?”
“Not until midnight tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Lock provision.”
“Convenient.”
“I know.”
Valerie opened Malcolm’s confession.
“Then we need page four before the board meeting.”
Sebastian looked at her.
“The estate archive burned.”
“Charles had duplicate records.”
“Where?”
Valerie looked at Evelyn.
“You said he trusted no one.”
“People who trust no one don’t keep one copy.”
Evelyn went still.
“What?”
Valerie continued.
“Your husband wrote Thomas that you were instructed to preserve the partnership agreement.”
“He put the safe-deposit key where you could find it.”
“But he also recorded a message saying he didn’t trust anyone.”
“What place belonged to him alone?”
Evelyn whispered.
“The boathouse.”
Sebastian frowned.
“At Lake Hadley?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Charles repaired boats when he wanted to think.”
Sebastian looked at Valerie.
“You’re not going.”
She laughed.
“There you are.”
He closed his eyes.
“Sorry.”
“Try again.”
“I would prefer you not to go because someone tried to burn us alive twelve hours ago.”
“Better.”
“But?”
“But I’m going.”
Sebastian sighed.
“I hate personal growth.”
Valerie smiled.
They went without him.
Evelyn.
Valerie.
Detective Price.
Two officers.
Sebastian remained in the hospital under protest.
The boathouse smelled of cedar and oil.
Evelyn found the false floor beneath an old workbench.
Inside was a waterproof container.
A set of ledgers.
Three photographs.
One envelope.
And page four.
Valerie stared.
“We found it.”
Evelyn did not smile.
She read the page.
Then sat down.
“What?”
Valerie asked.
Evelyn handed it to her.
Malcolm’s words were simple.
I did not act alone.
Charles’s son Adrian discovered the altered Bell records while accessing my office in March.
He demanded that I transfer control of the offshore accounts to him in exchange for silence.
I refused.
He copied the documents.
He has threatened to expose me unless I give him authority after his eighteenth birthday.
Valerie stopped.
“Adrian knew.”
“He was seventeen.”
Evelyn whispered.
“He knew before Charles died.”
Detective Price took the page.
“This establishes motive.”
“Not for murder.”
“No.”
“But for concealment.”
Valerie looked at the photographs.
One showed Malcolm and Charles arguing beside a car.
Another showed Thomas Bell entering the Ward estate.
The third showed a teenage Adrian standing outside Charles’s study.
Date stamped two days before Charles died.
Evelyn covered her face.
“I raised him.”
Valerie looked at her.
Evelyn whispered.
“After Malcolm died, I raised Adrian like my own son.”
“I paid for university.”
“I put him on the board.”
“I defended him every time Sebastian questioned him.”
Valerie sat beside her.
“You didn’t know.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“I didn’t want to know.”
The honesty hurt more.
She continued.
“Sebastian always frightened me because he was like Charles.”
“He asked why.”
“Adrian asked how much.”
“I told myself that made Adrian practical.”
“It made him easier.”
Valerie remained silent.
Evelyn looked toward the lake.
“I chose the son who demanded less truth from me.”
Detective Price’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression hardened.
“What?”
Valerie asked.
Price ended the call.
“Hospital security just reported Sebastian left.”
Valerie stood.
“What?”
“He discharged himself.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Of course he did.”
Valerie called him.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then her phone buzzed.
A photograph.
Sebastian entering Ward headquarters.
Below it, a message from his number.
I’m ending this tonight.
Valerie stared.
Then another message appeared.
Don’t come after me.
Her face changed.
“He didn’t write that.”
Evelyn frowned.
“How do you know?”
Valerie looked at the screen.
“Sebastian never says ‘come after me.’”
“What does he say?”
“Follow.”
Valerie grabbed her coat.
“This isn’t his message.”
Detective Price’s radio crackled.
Then a dispatch voice announced an emergency at Ward headquarters.
Shots reported.
May you like
Executive floor.
Valerie stopped breathing.
