Understood. Initiating legal hold through authorized channels.
Evelyn stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
Evelyn, what happened?
She typed:
I think we bought more than a company.
At 9:28 a.m., Evelyn left the executive restroom.
She had barely reached the service elevator when someone called her name.
“Miss?”
Evelyn turned.
A young woman stood near the stairwell.
She was perhaps twenty-four years old, with dark curly hair and nervous brown eyes.
She wore a plain black uniform.
A silver key ring hung from her belt.
“Are you the new cleaning lady?” the woman asked.
Evelyn hesitated.
“Why?”
The young woman glanced around.
Then lowered her voice.
“Because you need to be careful.”
Evelyn studied her.
“What's your name?”
“Naomi.”
“Naomi what?”
“Naomi Brooks.”
Evelyn smiled gently.
“It's nice to meet you, Naomi.”
Naomi looked toward the conference room.
“You shouldn't be up here when the executives are having meetings.”
“I was assigned to clean the restroom.”
Naomi's expression changed.
“Who assigned you?”
“Mr. Whitmore.”
Naomi closed her eyes.
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“That's what he does.”
Evelyn waited.
Naomi stepped closer.
“He picks someone new, gives them impossible instructions, and waits for them to make a mistake.”
“Why?”
“Because he likes reminding people who's in charge.”
Evelyn felt a familiar anger rise inside her.
“Has he done that to you?”
Naomi looked away.
“Not exactly.”
“What happened?”
Naomi hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“My mother used to work here.”
Evelyn's expression softened.
“Used to?”
Naomi nodded.
“She was a financial analyst.”
Evelyn felt her heartbeat change.
“What was her name?”
Naomi looked directly at her.
“Melissa Grant.”
For a moment, neither woman spoke.
Then Evelyn asked:
“Your mother was Melissa Grant?”
“Yes.”
“Why did she leave?”
Naomi's eyes filled with tears.
“They fired her.”
Evelyn remained silent.
Naomi continued.
“They said she made mistakes in the financial reports. But my mother was the most careful person I've ever known.”
Her voice trembled.
“She worked here for fourteen years. She missed birthdays. School plays. Family dinners. She believed in this company.”
“What happened after she was fired?”
Naomi swallowed.
“She tried to find another job.”
“And?”
“Nobody would hire her.”
“Why?”
Naomi looked toward the floor.
“Someone told other companies she couldn't be trusted.”
Evelyn felt a sharp pressure in her chest.
“Do you know who?”
Naomi shook her head.
“My mother thinks it was Mr. Whitmore.”
“Where is your mother now?”
Naomi's expression collapsed.
“At home.”
“Is she all right?”
“No.”
The answer came so quietly that Evelyn almost didn't hear it.
Naomi wiped her eyes.
“She lost our apartment. We moved in with my aunt. Then she got sick.”
“What kind of illness?”
“Stress. High blood pressure. The doctor said she needed rest.”
Naomi laughed bitterly.
“How do you rest when you're worried about paying for medicine?”
Evelyn looked at the young woman standing before her.
“Why are you working here?”
Naomi hesitated.
“Because they offered me a job after my mother left.”
Evelyn frowned.
“They offered you a cleaning position?”
“Yes.”
“Who did?”
“Mr. Whitmore.”
“And why did you accept?”
Naomi's voice broke.
“Because we needed the money.”
Evelyn stared at her.
The cruelty of it was almost impossible to comprehend.
A woman had allegedly been dismissed after questioning financial records.
Her reputation had been damaged.
Her family had suffered.
And her daughter was now cleaning the offices of the executives who may have been responsible.
“Naomi,” Evelyn said carefully, “did your mother ever tell you what she discovered?”
Naomi glanced toward the hallway.
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“She found payments to companies that didn't exist.”
Evelyn's blood ran cold.
“Do you remember their names?”
Naomi nodded.
“One was called Northbridge Consulting.”
Evelyn knew that name.
It appeared in Sterling Dynamics' vendor records.
A consulting firm that had received more than eighteen million dollars over three years.
Another name followed.
“Westlake Advisory.”
Evelyn's stomach tightened.
That company had received eleven million dollars.
Naomi continued.
“And something called Meridian Strategic Partners.”
Evelyn went completely still.
Meridian Strategic Partners.
Twenty-three million dollars.
Three companies.
More than fifty million dollars in combined payments.
All classified as strategic consulting expenses.
All approved by the executive operations committee.
Evelyn had questioned the unusually high consulting costs during the acquisition.
Sterling's management had explained them as necessary expenses associated with a major restructuring initiative.
Now she wondered whether those explanations had been fabricated.
“Naomi,” she said quietly, “did your mother keep copies of anything?”
Naomi's eyes widened.
“Why?”
“Because those records may be important.”
Naomi stepped backward.
“Are you from the police?”
“No.”
“A lawyer?”
“No.”
“Then who are you?”
Evelyn looked at her for a long moment.
She wanted to tell her.
She wanted to explain that help had finally arrived.
But the hallway was monitored.
And the people they were discussing still controlled much of the building's daily operations.
So she answered carefully.
“Someone who believes your mother deserves to be heard.”
Naomi studied her.
Then she reached into her pocket.
She pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“My mother told me to keep this.”
Evelyn took it.
Written in careful handwriting were three words:
BLUE HARBOR — 47
Below them was a date.
And a name.
C. MONROE
Evelyn looked up.
“What does this mean?”
Naomi shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Did your mother explain?”
“She said if anything happened to her, I should find someone who could investigate.”
Evelyn folded the paper carefully.
“May I keep this?”
Naomi hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Please don't tell Mr. Whitmore.”
“I won't.”
“And please don't tell Ms. Monroe.”
Evelyn's expression changed.
“Why?”
Naomi's voice dropped to a whisper.
“Because my mother said Catherine Monroe was the one who made everything disappear.”
A door slammed at the end of the hallway.
Both women turned.
Richard Whitmore was walking toward them.
His face darkened when he saw Naomi.
“What are you doing up here?”
Naomi immediately stepped back.
“I was just—”
“Didn't I assign you to the basement?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why are you standing here?”
Naomi lowered her head.
“I was helping the new employee.”
Whitmore turned toward Evelyn.
His eyes narrowed.
“You again.”
Evelyn said nothing.
“Did you finish the restroom?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“I was speaking with Naomi.”
Whitmore looked between them.
Then his expression changed.
Not into irritation.
Into suspicion.
“What were you discussing?”
Naomi went pale.
“Nothing, sir.”
Whitmore stepped closer.
“I asked a question.”
Evelyn moved slightly in front of Naomi.
“We were discussing work.”
Whitmore stared at her.
“Do you think I'm stupid?”
Evelyn remained calm.
“I haven't formed a conclusion.”
Naomi made a small choking sound.
Whitmore's face turned red.
“That's it.”
He pulled out his phone.
“I'm calling Human Resources.”
Evelyn nodded.
“That sounds appropriate.”
Whitmore blinked.
“You think this is funny?”
“No.”
“You're about to lose your job.”