Chapter 5 - Fifty-Two Percent
Agent Aaron Bell arrived with another investigator ninety minutes later.
He was younger than I expected, perhaps forty, with a plain charcoal suit and the patient expression of a man accustomed to listening longer than everyone else in the room.
His partner, Special Agent Dana Cho, photographed my mother’s office before touching anything.
Walter’s house became a scene of quiet measurement.
Every drawer.
Every scratch.
Every envelope.
Daniel paced in the hallway.
I remained beside the window.
Bell read my mother’s letter.
“Who else knew this existed?”
“No one, as far as I know.”
“Your father?”
“If he knew, I doubt it would still be here.”
“Your brother?”
Daniel answered from the doorway.
“I didn’t.”
Bell looked toward him.
“You’re CFO of Hayes Meridian.”
“Yes.”
“You understand we may need financial records.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“My attorney will cooperate.”
“Which attorney?”
“Not Samuel Price.”
That earned the smallest reaction from Bell.
“You know Mr. Price?”
Bell ignored my question.
Instead, he asked Daniel, “Are Hayes Meridian’s books stored on site?”
“Operational records are mirrored across secure servers.”
“And historical board records?”
“Some are archived physically.”
“Where?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Dad controls the archive.”
Bell nodded as if confirming something.
Then the front door opened downstairs.
Walter’s voice thundered through the foyer.
“Daniel!”
My body tensed automatically.
Bell noticed.
Walter reached the office seconds later.
He stopped when he saw the agents.
His face became unreadable.
“What are you doing in my house?”
Bell produced identification.
“Mr. Hayes, we’re conducting inquiries related to Hayes Meridian Systems.”
“This is private property.”
“We were invited by two legal beneficiaries of the Rebecca Hayes Trust.”
Walter looked at me.
The fury in his eyes made the auditorium seem almost gentle.
“You brought federal investigators into your mother’s office?”
“No.”
I held up her letter.
“She did.”
His gaze locked onto the page.
For one second, something close to fear crossed his face.
Then it disappeared.
“That letter proves nothing.”
“You haven’t read it.”
“I know your mother.”
“So do I.”
“No, Claire. You remember a woman who protected you from reality.”
Daniel stepped between us.
“Dad, stop.”
Walter turned on him.
“You gave her the documents.”
It was not a question.
Daniel said nothing.
Walter laughed bitterly.
“Wonderful. Both of you.”
Bell interrupted.
“Mr. Hayes, you are not required to answer questions without counsel.”
“My counsel will be here shortly.”
“Samuel Price?”
Walter’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes.”
Bell nodded.
“We’ll wait.”
Walter looked toward the desk.
“You had no right to open that.”
I folded my mother’s letter carefully.
“I own twenty-six percent of your company.”
The room went silent.
Walter looked at Daniel.
Daniel did not move.
Then my father smiled.
It was the expression he used when he thought someone had misunderstood rules he controlled.
“No.”
I removed the trust document from my bag.
“Mom left fifty-two percent to Daniel and me.”
“She left shares in trust.”
“Until we turned thirty.”
“You signed a proxy.”
“No, someone forged one.”
Walter’s expression hardened.
“You’re accusing me of forgery?”
“I’m stating that I did not sign it.”
“You don’t remember half the things you signed before deployments.”
That was exactly the kind of sentence my mother had anticipated.
If you ever begin doubting your own memory.
I felt suddenly grateful for a dead woman’s foresight.
“I remember this.”
Walter stepped closer.
Bell quietly moved between us.
My father stopped.
“You think owning paper makes you qualified to run a company?”
“I haven’t said I want to run it.”
“Then what do you want?”
“The truth.”
“You always wanted drama more.”
The old accusation.
Too emotional.
Too ambitious.
Too sensitive.
Too difficult.
Every label meant the same thing.
Uncontrollable.
Daniel suddenly spoke.
“I turned thirty three months ago.”
Walter froze.
Daniel continued.
“So did my trust distribute?”
Walter said nothing.
“My shares, Dad.”
“You work for me.”
“I work for Hayes Meridian.”
“I built Hayes Meridian.”
“Mom built it too.”
Walter’s face changed.
There it was.
The sentence he could never tolerate.
Rebecca had designed the company’s earliest control systems.
Rebecca had secured their first aerospace contracts.
Rebecca had owned fifty-two percent because early investors trusted her patents more than Walter’s salesmanship.
He had spent twenty years rewriting that history.
Walter’s attorney arrived forty minutes later.
Samuel Price looked almost exactly as I remembered him.
Silver hair.
Expensive glasses.
Calm voice.
He greeted Daniel.
Then Walter.
When his eyes reached me, his face went pale.
“Claire.”
“Samuel.”
“I heard about yesterday.”
“Did you hear about my signature?”
He looked at Walter.
Wrong move.
I saw it.
So did Bell.
“Which signature?” Samuel asked.
I handed him a copy of the loan guarantee.
He studied it.
His mouth tightened.
“You notarized it.”
Samuel removed his glasses.
“I notarized documents presented to me as properly executed.”
“You watched me sign?”
“No.”
“Then why does the acknowledgment say I appeared before you?”
Walter stepped in.
“This conversation is over.”
Bell smiled faintly.
“For you, perhaps.”
Samuel handed back the paper.
“Claire, corporate matters can look alarming outside context.”
“Did my mother approve Northstar?”
He went completely still.
Walter said, “Don’t.”
Too late.
Samuel’s face had already answered.
I stepped closer.
“What was Halcyon?”
His eyes moved toward Walter.
Then the office alarm began beeping.
Daniel checked his phone.
“Server alert.”
“What kind?”
He stared at the screen.
“Archive purge.”
Walter swore.
Daniel ran for the hall.
“Someone’s remotely deleting company records.”
Bell immediately reached for his phone.
“Can you stop it?”
Daniel was already moving.
“I don’t know.”
Before he disappeared downstairs, he turned toward us.
His face was white.
“The deletion authorization came from Claire’s corporate account.”
I stared at him.
“I don’t have a corporate account.”
Walter’s expression changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
And I knew then that somewhere inside Hayes Meridian, a second version of me had existed for years.
One that signed loans.
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