Chapter 11 - The Deposition.
The phrase executive relationship development sounded ridiculous until an attorney asked me to define it under oath.
I could not.
Three days after the anonymous spreadsheet arrived, I sat in a windowless conference room with a court reporter, Martin, two lawyers for Carter Ridge, Harbor Meridian's counsel, and Mason's attorney.
Mason himself was not there.
His lawyer had objected to almost every request for records and insisted the Northstar ledger could have been fabricated.
That possibility stayed in the room like smoke.
The Carter Ridge investigator, Helen Cho, questioned me first.
"Mr. Carter, did you authorize Northstar Strategy Group to cultivate a personal relationship between you and Vanessa Cole?"
"No."
"Did you know Ms. Cole had been paid in connection with you before you met her?"
"No."
"Did you know Mr. Reed had a preexisting personal relationship with Ms. Cole?"
"No."
"Did Mr. Reed force you to begin an affair with Ms. Cole?"
The question was humiliating because I knew why she asked it.
"No."
"Did he force you to lie to your wife about your location?"
"No."
"Did he force you to use Claire Carter's stored signature image?"
"No."
Each answer stripped away another excuse.
Helen glanced at the court reporter.
"Then explain why you believe Mr. Reed's conduct is relevant."
I took a breath.
"Because he appears to have used my personal weakness to influence business decisions and to create expenses, communications, and financial approvals that benefited entities he controlled or influenced."
Martin had helped me phrase that answer.
The truth underneath it was simpler.
Mason knew I liked being admired.
He built a door around that weakness.
I walked through it myself.
Helen turned to the bridge facility.
"Did Claire Carter authorize you to sign her name?"
"No."
"Did you believe she would approve the guarantee if asked?"
"At the time, yes."
"Did you ask?"
"No."
"Why not?"
That question had haunted me all week.
The answer was ugly.
"Because I thought she might say no."
No one moved.
There it was.
The fact I had avoided even with Martin.
I had not skipped the conversation because I thought Claire would agree.
I had skipped it because I was afraid she would not.
Helen nodded once.
"So you knowingly avoided obtaining consent."
"Yes."
Martin's pen stopped.
I knew the admission hurt me.
I also knew lying would hurt worse.
After a break, Harbor Meridian's lawyer asked about the trust direction letter.
I denied creating it.
I denied sending it.
I denied instructing anyone to send it.
Then she displayed a document I had never seen.
It was an internal Northstar email.
Mason to an employee named Priya Desai.
Need CEC auth pulled from prior tax file.
Client wants funding by Friday.
Do not bother him with admin.
CEC were Claire's initials.
My heart began pounding.
"Where did you get that?"
The attorney ignored my question.
"Do you recognize this address?"
"Yes. It is Mason's."
"Do you know what auth refers to?"
"No."
"Could it mean authorization?"
"Possibly."
"Could it mean authentication?"
"Possibly."
"Could it mean a signature?"
"Possibly."
Martin interrupted.
"He has answered."
The attorney moved on.
At lunch, Martin closed the conference-room door behind us.
"That email helps."
"It proves Mason did it."
"It proves he requested something associated with Claire's initials."
"What else could it mean?"
"We will let forensic review answer that."
I paced.
"When do I get my company back?"
Martin looked tired.
"You are still thinking about the wrong finish line."
"It is my company."
"Your marriage is ending."
I stopped.
He continued.
"You are in a custody case with a three-month-old son who barely knows your routine."
"He knows me."
"That is not what I said."
I looked away.
"Your lender thinks your company used unauthorized collateral."
Martin lowered his voice.
"Even if Mason forged the trust instruction, you still used Claire's signature later."
"I know."
"Then act like you know."
The afternoon became worse.
Rebecca Sloan joined by video for a limited set of questions related to the family case.
She asked about my original emergency-custody affidavit.
"You stated under penalty of perjury that you returned from business travel and discovered your wife had left."
My stomach dropped.
I remembered signing the draft too quickly.
Martin had asked me to review it.
I had skimmed it while angry.
"That wording was inaccurate."
"You signed it."
"Yes."
"Were you returning from business travel?"
"No."
"Where were you?"
"The Grand Meridian."
"With Vanessa Cole?"
"Yes."
"Did you correct the affidavit before Mrs. Carter produced hotel records?"
"No."
"Why not?"
I wanted to say because I was distracted by the financial investigation.
I wanted to say because the exact wording had been Martin's.
I wanted to say because everybody already knew about Vanessa.
Instead, I remembered Claire's face in the conference room.
Start with what you did.
"Because I hoped it would not matter."
Rebecca's expression did not change.
"Thank you."
That was all.
No dramatic attack.
No raised voice.
The truth sounded bad enough without help.
When the deposition ended, I found Claire waiting near the elevators.
She had come to sign a separate disclosure with Rebecca.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"How's Noah?"
"Good."
"Did he sleep?"
"Four hours straight last night."
I smiled despite everything.
"That's a record."
"It is."
There was an awkward pause.
"I admitted the affidavit was wrong," I said.
Claire looked at me.
"Okay."
I almost became angry at that word again.
Then I realized I had no right to expect praise for telling the truth after lying.
"Mason may have used your old signature before I did."
"Rebecca told me."
"I am sorry."
Claire's eyes tightened.
"For which part?"
The question was not sarcastic.
She genuinely needed specificity.
"For acting like your name was something I could use because we were married."
Her face changed slightly.
I continued before fear could stop me.
"For thinking your money was available because I had a good reason."
She looked down.
"And for making you prove things you should never have had to prove."
Claire did not answer for a long time.
Then she said, "That is the first apology you've made that didn't include the word but."
The elevator arrived.
She stepped inside.
Before the doors closed, she looked at me again.
"Keep doing that."
For the rest of the day, those three words felt almost hopeful.
Then Martin called at 8:40 that night.
"Do you still have the laptop you used before the company issued the current one?"
"Maybe. Why?"
"Because the Northstar ledger has a deleted-tab reference to a local backup."
"Where?"
"A device labeled EC-MBP-OLD."
I remembered an old MacBook in a storage unit near the Greenwich train station.
Martin's voice sharpened.
"Do not turn it on."
"I know."
"Good."
He paused.
"Because if that backup exists, it may contain the original version of the ledger."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then Mason's lawyer will argue the anonymous spreadsheet was manufactured."
I looked at the dark apartment around me.
May you like
For once, the next move did not belong to the loudest person in the room.
It belonged to an old laptop I had not touched in two years.
