Chapter 3 - THE MAN VICTORIA SAID STOLE THIRTY-TWO MILLION
By morning, Harrison was everywhere.
Not physically.
On screens.
Carter Sterling’s board issued a statement.
Chief Operating Officer Harrison Carter had been placed on administrative leave pending investigation into unauthorized vendor payments.
Business reporters found the filing.
Then the number.
Thirty-two million dollars.
The money had moved through three freight-recovery companies during the previous eighteen months.
One was called North Vale Logistics.
The address on Harrison’s false license belonged to a building leased by North Vale.
My husband’s face appeared on television beside the word FUGITIVE before police had even declared him one.
I threw the remote across the sofa.
It did not break.
Chloe looked at me.
I picked it up.
“Sorry.”
“Daddy bad?”
“No.”
Too fast.
I corrected myself.
“I don’t know everything Daddy did. I know people are saying things before we have all the facts.”
She hugged Lucy’s empty blanket instead of the doll.
Police had the actual toy.
“Can Daddy come home?”
“I’m trying.”
The answer felt weak.
It was honest.
Rachel Sloan arrived at ten.
She had represented Harrison and me when we bought our apartment.
She refused to represent both of us now.
“If Harrison is accused of financial crimes, you need independent counsel.”
I hired her for me and Chloe.
Harrison would need his own lawyer if found.
Rachel reviewed the board statement.
“Who controls Carter Sterling during Harrison’s absence?”
“Victoria and the board.”
“Ownership?”
“Harrison owns twenty-eight percent. Victoria twenty-six. Employees and outside investors hold the rest.”
“Any trusts?”
“Chloe has something from Harrison’s father.”
Rachel looked up.
“What kind of something?”
“I don’t know.”
“You signed anything?”
“No.”
Another area where I let Harrison say:
I’ll handle it.
I felt sick.
“Find it.”
She did.
Harrison’s father, Thomas Carter, died five years earlier.
His estate placed an additional nineteen percent of Carter Sterling into a voting trust for Chloe.
Until she turned twenty-five, the shares were controlled by an independent trustee.
If Harrison became unavailable due to death, incapacity, or criminal disqualification, the trust protector could appoint an interim company representative.
“Who is trust protector?” I asked.
Rachel kept reading.
“Victoria Sterling.”
My skin went cold.
“Why?”
“Thomas named her.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Maybe because she co-founded the company with Harrison.”
“Can she control Chloe’s shares?”
“Not automatically. She can nominate an interim representative subject to trustee approval.”
“How much influence?”
“Enough that we need an independent review immediately.”
Rachel filed notice with the trustee that Victoria was now potentially conflicted.
The trustee, Samuel Price, suspended any protector action until facts were clearer.
Not because Victoria was guilty.
Because she wanted evidence from my apartment while the company accused Harrison of theft.
Conflict.
Procedure.
Useful boring words.
Police obtained building-camera footage.
Victoria had entered using a temporary maintenance credential.
Not as a visitor.
The credential came from Carter Sterling’s corporate security vendor.
She had access to a system that should have had nothing to do with my apartment.
The company claimed the credential was issued for “executive-family emergency response.”
I had never authorized that.
Grant asked whether Harrison installed our door camera.
“Yes.”
“Through the same vendor?”
I checked.
Yes.
My home security was connected to the company.
Another decision I had never examined.
The USB forensic team extracted file names without breaking encryption.
RETURN_14.
RETURN_27.
COLDCHAIN_VARIANCE.
NORTHVALE.
STERLING_RECOVERY.
Then:
IF_FOUND_GO_TO_UNIT_604.
Unit 604 belonged to a self-storage complex in Quincy.
Registered renter:
Henry Cole.
The fake man.
Grant requested a warrant.
Rachel warned me not to go.
I agreed.
For once.
Police opened Unit 604 at 4:40 p.m.
Inside they found no Harrison.
They found one folding chair.
A sleeping bag.
Six empty protein-bar wrappers.
A barcode scanner.
Three burner phones.
And a wall covered with photographs of Carter Sterling shipping boxes.
Every box had been photographed twice.
Once leaving a warehouse sealed.
Once returning.
In the second photographs, the boxes looked identical.
May you like
Except Harrison had written the weight under each image.
Several returns weighed more than they had when they left.
