Chapter 5 - The Emergency Meeting
Whitmore Development called an emergency board meeting at eleven.
Grant expected loyalty.
He received questions.
My father had one observer on the board through Vance Strategic Holdings.
Her name was Margaret Shaw.
At 11:26, Margaret called us from the elevator after leaving the meeting.
“He's unraveling.”
Arthur put the call on speaker.
“What happened?”
“Three directors requested an independent audit.”
I leaned closer.
“Grant agreed?”
Margaret laughed once.
“No.”
That was the problem.
An innocent CEO welcomed an audit.
A frightened one attacked the people requesting it.
Grant had accused his own CFO of betrayal.
He had threatened to fire two directors.
Then he had claimed my father was orchestrating a hostile takeover.
“He said Arthur wants the company.”
My father shook his head.
“I don't.”
Margaret continued.
“He also told the board Claire stole confidential documents.”
“What?”
My voice came out louder than I intended.
“What documents?”
“He didn't specify.”
Rachel immediately wrote something down.
“He's establishing a narrative.”
“What narrative?”
“That you accessed corporate information and gave it to your father.”
I felt sick.
Grant had always been clever.
Cruel, arrogant, reckless.
But clever.
He was preparing to make me the villain.
Arthur turned toward Daniel.
“Preserve Claire's device history.”
“Already happening.”
Margaret continued.
“There is more.”
Nobody spoke.
“CFO says twenty-two million dollars disappeared through three vendor accounts over eighteen months.”
My father stared at the table.
“Names?”
“Bellweather Consulting.”
Rachel froze.
“Say that again.”
“Bellweather Consulting.”
Rachel opened her laptop.
Thirty seconds later, she turned the screen toward us.
Bellweather Consulting LLC had been registered two years earlier.
Its mailing address belonged to a condominium in River North.
The owner listed on the property records was Vanessa Cole.
My chest tightened.
“She has a company?”
Rachel nodded.
“Apparently.”
I called Vanessa.
She answered immediately.
“What is Bellweather Consulting?”
Silence.
“Vanessa.”
“I don't know.”
“Don't lie to me.”
“I swear.”
“It uses your address.”
Her breathing changed.
“Grant asked me if he could receive business mail here.”
“How much money did he send through it?”
“What?”
“Twenty-two million dollars.”
Vanessa started crying.
“Oh my God.”
“Did you sign anything?”
Another silence.
Then a whisper.
“Yes.”
May you like
And suddenly Grant's mistress was no longer merely part of my broken marriage.
She was sitting in the middle of a financial crime she claimed she didn't understand.
