Chapter 11 - Before the Funeral
Ethan did not speak for several minutes.
The photograph had a timestamp.
April 18, 2024.
Amelia had died eleven days later.
Victoria had been worrying about Sarah, Leo’s trust, and Ethan’s financial papers before the funeral had even happened.
Sarah felt sick remembering those final days.
Victoria had brought casseroles.
Flowers.
Coffee.
She had sat beside Amelia’s bed and held her hand.
At the time, Sarah had admired her loyalty.
Now every gesture carried a second possible meaning.
Detective Ruiz asked Sarah to send the original cloud image without editing it.
She then asked:
“Did Victoria have opportunities to access the notebook?”
“Yes.”
“How frequently?”
“She visited nearly every day near the end.”
Ethan looked away.
Ruiz continued.
“Did Amelia ever accuse Victoria directly?”
“No.”
“Did she explain why she suspected her?”
Sarah studied the photograph.
There was a mark at the bottom edge.
Part of another sentence from the following page.
Only the tops of letters were visible.
She zoomed.
Nothing readable.
Ruiz said, “Don’t enhance it yourself. We can preserve the original.”
The next development came from Priya Shah.
The cyber-forensics team traced access to Marcus’s computer during the deletion of the baby-monitor clips.
The user had inserted a physical security token.
Marcus’s token.
Ethan said, “Then it was Marcus.”
Priya shook her head.
“Not necessarily. His token went missing for approximately three hours that afternoon.”
“How do you know?”
“Marcus filed an internal IT ticket at four-seventeen saying he couldn’t find it.”
Nora frowned.
“He never mentioned that.”
“According to the ticket, he found it in his desk at five-ten.”
Sarah asked, “Who entered his office?”
Priya shared security logs.
Victoria entered at 10:11 a.m.
Lucas Crane entered at 12:48 p.m.
Nora entered at 2:03.
Marcus left for the board committee meeting at 2:52.
At 3:09, a badge opened his office again.
The badge belonged to a junior legal assistant named Chloe Warren.
But Chloe had been working remotely that day.
Someone had cloned or borrowed her credentials.
At 3:48, the baby-monitor clips were deleted.
At 4:02, the forged trust document was uploaded.
At 4:17, Marcus reported the token missing.
Ruiz said, “Someone wanted us looking at Marcus.”
Nora replied, “Or Marcus created the ticket to protect himself.”
Both were possible.
The investigation widened.
Meanwhile, the board meeting approached.
Meridian Capital refused to extend its acquisition offer beyond Friday without exclusive negotiating rights.
Lucas Crane sent Ethan a private message requesting a meeting.
Ethan initially refused.
Then Daniel Mercer advised him to listen.
“People reveal things when they think they still have leverage.”
So Ethan agreed.
They met in a private conference room at a neutral law office.
Sarah was not present, but Ethan told her what happened afterward.
Lucas Crane arrived without Victoria.
He was forty-two, impeccably dressed, and far less emotional than his sister.
He placed a folder in front of Ethan.
“Your company needs capital.”
“I know.”
“More than your sister admitted.”
Ethan remained expressionless.
Lucas continued.
“Forty-two million is the immediate issue. Your manufacturing expansion has another thirty million in commitments over the next year.”
“I know my company.”
“Then you know Meridian’s offer is fair.”
“Your sister’s twenty-four-million-dollar secret fee isn’t.”
Lucas barely reacted.
“She introduced the opportunity.”
“She introduced herself into my family.”
“That was personal.”
“Was it?”
Lucas leaned back.
“I’m not responsible for Victoria’s relationship.”
“But you paid her if she could consolidate family control.”
“I paid her for advisory work.”
“You wrote ‘keep E comfortable.’”
For the first time, Lucas’s eyes sharpened.
“So you’ve accessed private communications.”
“My communications too, apparently.”
Lucas folded his hands.
“Ethan, you can turn this into a war or a transaction.”
“My son was put in danger.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“You knew Victoria wanted his voting rights.”
“I knew she believed a unified family vote would help.”
“Did you know she intended to marry me when you offered her twenty-four million?”
Lucas paused.
Then:
“Yes.”
Ethan’s stomach tightened.
“How early?”
Lucas studied him.
“She told me she thought you would eventually propose.”
“When?”
“Before Amelia died.”
Ethan went still.
Lucas realized he had crossed a line.
Ethan stood.
“Say that again.”
Lucas remained seated.
“Victoria believed you depended on her emotionally.”
“My wife was alive.”
“I didn’t say anything happened.”
“You said Victoria expected to marry me.”
“She believed it was possible.”
“While Amelia was dying.”
Lucas said nothing.
Ethan walked toward the door.
Lucas called after him.
“You think that makes her evil?”
Ethan turned.
Lucas continued.
“My sister has always believed life belongs to the person willing to plan further ahead.”
Ethan stared at him.
“That sentence doesn’t help her.”
“It wasn’t meant to.”
Before Ethan left, Lucas added:
“You should ask Sarah what Amelia discovered at the foundation.”
Ethan stopped.
“What foundation?”
Lucas smiled faintly.
“You really don’t know.”
That night Ethan asked Sarah.
She did know something.
Three weeks before Amelia died, she had driven Amelia to the Hale Family Foundation office.
Amelia had spent forty minutes inside.
When she came out, she was shaken.
Sarah had asked what happened.
Amelia only said:
“Someone has been taking money.”
Ethan immediately called Nora.
The Hale Family Foundation accounts had never been included in the corporate audit.
By midnight, Nora found the first irregularity.
Over eighteen months, $3.8 million had been paid to consulting companies linked to Crane Legacy Partners.
The earliest payment occurred eight months before Amelia died.
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And every payment carried electronic approval from Amelia Hale.
Approvals Amelia had apparently never given.
