Chapter 10 - When the Truth Finally Had a Voice|
The recording changed the investigation.
It didn't end it.
Carmen made that distinction immediately.
“We have evidence of a conversation,” she explained.
“We still need to establish who created the documents, who controlled the systems, and what each person actually did.”
Laurel nodded.
She had stopped expecting one dramatic revelation to solve everything.
But the video gave investigators something they'd been missing.
A connection between Preston, Caleb, Gideon, and the unauthorized platform.
An independent digital-forensics team preserved the original recording and examined the system logs.
Their preliminary findings showed that Laurel's name had been inserted into an approval process through an administrative override.
Her personal login hadn't been used.
Her work tablet hadn't initiated the transaction.
And the authorization had been created while she was visibly managing the ballroom.
The details mattered.
Not because they were exciting.
Because they were verifiable.
Three days later, Elias North called a private meeting with Laurel.
Roman attended at her request.
Elias stood beside a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Chicago.
He looked older than he had at the gala.
Tired.
Angry.
And deeply disappointed.
“Gideon has been placed on leave,” he said.
Laurel sat opposite him.
“Has he admitted anything?”
“No.”
Elias turned.
“But the outside investigators found communications that require further examination.”
Roman folded his arms.
“Did he disclose his financial connection to Wade Meridian?”
Elias's expression hardened.
“No.”
Laurel looked between them.
“What connection?”
Elias sat down.
“An investment entity associated with Gideon held an interest in a company positioned to benefit from Wade Meridian's expansion.”
Laurel absorbed the information.
“So he stood to profit.”
“Potentially.”
Elias's jaw tightened.
“And he failed to disclose the conflict.”
Laurel thought about Preston's arrogance.
Caleb's enthusiasm.
Gideon's access to corporate systems.
Three men who had treated a children's charity as a convenient business opportunity.
“Why?” she asked.
Elias looked at her.
“Money.”
The answer was so simple that it made her angry.
“Brightstep was trying to help children find safe homes.”
“I know.”
“They were trying to turn that into a product.”
“Yes.”
“And they expected me to take the blame when something went wrong.”
Elias said nothing.
Laurel leaned forward.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Would you have believed me without the recording?”
Elias looked uncomfortable.
Roman glanced toward him.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Elias answered.
“I don't know.”
Laurel appreciated the honesty.
But it hurt anyway.
Elias continued.
“I'd like to think I would have listened.”
He looked down.
“But I've spent years trusting executives because they delivered results.”
His voice hardened.
“I didn't always ask enough questions about how those results were obtained.”
Laurel studied him.
“Then perhaps this is a good time to start.”
Elias nodded.
“Agreed.”
The conversation might have ended there.
But Elias reached for a document.
“I also owe you an apology.”
Laurel blinked.
“Why?”
“Because my company's proposed investment helped create the leverage used against you.”
He placed the document on the table.
“Northline's board has authorized an independent review of our vendor-selection process.”
Roman looked at him.
“And?”
“Gideon's authority over the transaction has been revoked.”
Elias faced Laurel.
“And we've offered full cooperation to Brightstep's counsel and the appropriate investigators.”
Laurel exhaled slowly.
For the first time, the powerful people involved weren't all closing ranks.
Some were opening the doors.
After the meeting, Roman walked her to the elevator.
“You handled that well,” he said.
Laurel looked at him.
“I almost threw my coffee at his window.”
“That would've been expensive.”
“I'm unemployed.”
“Technically, suspended.”
“Then I'd have to throw something cheaper.”
Roman laughed.
The sound warmed something inside her.
They reached the elevator.
Roman pressed the button.
Laurel hesitated.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
He glanced at her.
“You've already asked about my tattoos.”
“Something more personal.”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did you leave the fire department and start investigating corporations?”
Roman's smile faded.
“After Daniel died, I started working on emergency-response consulting.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“I kept seeing the same pattern.”
“What pattern?”
“People ignoring safety warnings because fixing the problems would cost money.”
Laurel listened.
“Eventually, I realized the emergencies I understood best were the ones someone had decided were acceptable risks.”
She considered his words.
“And now?”
“Now I try to find the risk before someone gets hurt.”
The elevator doors opened.
Laurel didn't step inside.
“Is that what you're doing with me?”
Roman frowned.
“What?”
“Trying to save me?”
He took a moment before answering.
“No.”
Laurel searched his face.
“Then what?”
“I'm helping you get access to the facts.”
His voice softened.
“You don't need me to decide what to do with them.”
For a moment, she couldn't breathe normally.
Preston had spent years making every decision feel like something Laurel needed permission to make.
Roman was doing the opposite.
He was handing the choice back.
She stepped into the elevator.
“Dinner tomorrow?”
Roman smiled.
“Are you asking?”
“Yes.”
“Then absolutely.”
The doors began to close.
Laurel smiled back.
For the first time in months, she was looking forward to something that had nothing to do with proving Preston wrong.
Then her phone rang.
Camille.
Laurel answered.
“Hello?”
Camille sounded breathless.
“I've decided to make a public statement.”
Laurel went still.
“About the video?”
“About everything I personally know.”
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Camille swallowed.
“But being afraid of Preston is how I ended up helping him.”
She paused.
“And there's something you deserve to know before I do it.”
Laurel's stomach tightened.
“What?”
Camille's voice broke.
May you like
“Preston didn't just copy your old proposal.”
“He made investors believe you voluntarily gave it to him.”
