Chapter 13 - The Missing Brother
At 1:16 a.m., the team at Pier 17 found the voting certificates.
They were inside a waterproof case being loaded onto a private boat.
The courier escaped before police could identify him.
But the certificates were recovered.
Daniel delivered the news to Mary.
She should have felt relieved.
Instead, one detail bothered her.
The boat belonged to a company called Northline Marine.
Mary knew the name.
She had seen it before.
“Check Northline against Whitmore vendors.”
Daniel opened his laptop.
Minutes later, he found the connection.
Northline Marine had received payments from Whitmore Holdings for twelve years.
The original vendor approval had been signed by Robert Whitmore.
Mary looked toward her father.
Robert appeared genuinely confused.
“I don’t remember that company.”
Daniel searched older records.
Then stopped.
“The approval was submitted by your office.”
Robert moved closer.
“Which employee?”
Daniel looked at Mary.
“Michael Whitmore.”
Mary felt the room tilt.
Michael was her older brother.
He had died five years earlier.
His car had gone over a mountain road in Colorado during a winter storm.
No body had ever been recovered.
Authorities believed the vehicle had been swept into a river.
Mary had mourned him for years.
Robert whispered.
“That can’t be right.”
Daniel checked again.
“The account was created while Michael was vice president of acquisitions.”
Mary sat down.
Northline had remained active after Michael’s death.
Someone had continued using it.
“Who approves the payments now?”
Daniel searched.
“Automatic renewals.”
Mary looked at him.
“Beneficial owner?”
Daniel entered another database.
His face changed.
“What?”
He stared at the screen.
“Northline Marine changed ownership fourteen months after Michael’s accident.”
“To whom?”
Daniel did not answer immediately.
Mary’s patience broke.
“Daniel.”
He turned the laptop toward her.
The registered owner was an investment trust in Delaware.
The trustee’s name was Samuel Gray.
Robert frowned.
“Who is Samuel Gray?”
Mary stared at the photograph beside the registration.
The man had shorter hair.
A beard.
Glasses.
But Mary knew those eyes.
She had grown up with those eyes across breakfast tables.
She had fought with those eyes over the front seat of their father’s car.
She had watched those eyes disappear behind an airport security gate the last time she saw her brother alive.
Mary whispered one word.
“Michael.”
Robert moved closer.
His face lost all color.
May you like
The photograph was unmistakable.
Mary’s dead brother was alive.
