Chapter 5 - The Password Between Them
Adrian Brooks arrived at Reed Global headquarters before seven.
He had barely slept.
The company’s forty-third-floor conference room offered a panoramic view of downtown Chicago, but Adrian did not look at it.
Marcus sat at one end of the table.
Leah sat beside an outside cybersecurity consultant named Peter Walsh.
Adrian sat alone across from them.
His access badge rested on the table.
Temporarily disabled.
Four years of work reduced to a piece of plastic he could no longer use.
Peter spoke first.
“At 2:13 a.m. on September twenty-seventh, your authenticated Reed Global account opened the Foundry acquisition directory.”
Adrian rubbed his palms together beneath the table.
“I was asleep.”
“Where?”
“My apartment.”
“Was anyone else there?”
“Madison.”
Peter turned the laptop.
A log showed seventeen files opened in eight minutes.
Parcel maps.
Negotiation status.
Appraisal ranges.
Target closing dates.
A confidential board memorandum.
Then a data transfer.
“Thirty-eight megabytes were copied to a removable device.”
Adrian stared at the screen.
“No.”
Leah asked, “Do you keep removable drives at home?”
“One.”
“Where?”
“My desk.”
“Was it encrypted?”
Adrian’s silence answered.
Marcus finally spoke.
“How did Madison know your password?”
“She didn’t.”
Peter looked at him.
“Are you sure?”
Adrian opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Marcus watched memory arrive.
“What?”
Adrian lowered his eyes.
“She saw me type it.”
“How?”
“I was working from home. She was behind me.”
“One time?”
“Probably more.”
Marcus leaned back.
“Did you change it after?”
“No.”
Leah’s tone was professional, not cruel.
“Your employment agreement requires secure handling of confidential information.”
“I know.”
“Your annual security training says not to allow household members access.”
“I know.”
“Your password was stored anywhere?”
Adrian shook his head.
Peter slid another document forward.
“We also found an authentication event from your laptop while your phone was stationary in the bedroom.”
Adrian looked confused.
“How do you know where my phone was?”
“You approved company mobile-device management for work email. It recorded the device as idle and charging. The computer activity continued for nine minutes.”
Adrian pressed his fingers against his mouth.
Marcus remembered how confident Adrian had looked at the gala.
The tuxedo.
The expensive watch.
The pride when he introduced Marcus to Madison.
Now the same man looked smaller.
Not because he had lost money.
Because he had realized someone he trusted might have used him.
“I told her about the map,” Adrian said.
Leah waited.
“She was asking why I was stressed. I said the company was trying to close parcels before one seller realized how important his lot was.”
“Which seller?”
“I didn’t say the name.”
“Did you show her the map?”
“I had it open.”
Marcus said, “Adrian.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Adrian looked up.
There was pain in his expression now.
“Yes.”
Marcus believed him.
Believing him did not remove the consequences.
“Did she ever ask about valuation?”
“Yes.”
“Negotiation limits?”
“She asked how high companies usually go above appraised value.”
“Did you answer?”
“In general.”
“Did you mention our limit?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Once.”
Leah stopped writing.
“How much?”
“Fourteen percent.”
Marcus closed his eyes briefly.
One of the parcels had refused Reed Global’s latest offer and demanded precisely fourteen percent more.
Adrian saw the recognition.
“Oh, God.”
Marcus stood and walked toward the glass wall.
He wanted to shout.
Not because Adrian had betrayed him intentionally.
Intentional betrayal was almost easier.
This was negligence born from vanity.
Adrian liked being important.
He liked having access to information other people wanted.
Madison had understood that.
And used it.
Marcus turned.
“Why did you tell her?”
Adrian answered quietly.
“Because she was impressed.”
There it was.
No excuse.
Only the truth.
Marcus knew something about wanting admiration from Madison Cole.
That made the anger more complicated.
Adrian continued.
“She asked about my promotion. About the project. About who was making decisions. I thought she cared about my career.”
“Maybe she did.”
Adrian gave a hollow laugh.
“You don’t believe that.”
“I believe people can care about you and still use you.”
The sentence surprised Marcus as he said it.
Adrian looked down.
Leah pushed a form across the table.
“Effective immediately, you’re placed on paid administrative leave pending completion of the internal investigation.”
Adrian’s head lifted.
“You’re suspending me?”
“Yes.”
“I can help.”
“You can cooperate from outside active systems.”
“Marcus—”
“This decision is not mine alone.”
It mattered that Adrian understood.
Marcus had insisted that the audit committee oversee the investigation because his prior relationship with Madison created a conflict.
“I recused myself from the employment determination,” Marcus said.
Adrian looked toward Leah.
“Am I getting fired?”
“No decision has been made.”
Adrian removed his company badge from the table and stared at it.
“Does Madison know you found this?”
“No,” Leah said.
“Are you going to contact her?”
“Yes.”
Adrian’s face tightened.
“I want to be there.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
“She used my computer.”
“Which is exactly why you cannot be part of that conversation.”
Adrian stood.
“I feel like an idiot.”
Marcus studied him.
“Feeling stupid is not accountability.”
Adrian flinched.
Marcus softened his voice without softening the point.
“Accountability is what you do after you understand the damage.”
For several seconds Adrian said nothing.
Then he nodded.
Security escorted him downstairs.
Marcus remained with Leah.
Peter continued reviewing the logs.
“We have another issue.”
Marcus sat.
Peter opened a network diagram.
“The USB transfer isn’t the only evidence.”
“What else?”
“The files were opened in sequence, not randomly. Whoever did this knew exactly what they wanted.”
“Madison could have read the directory names.”
“Maybe.”
Peter highlighted the final item.
“But this file wasn’t visible in the normal folder.”
A document appeared.
FOUND-LEGACY-OPTION-DISPUTE.pdf.
Marcus frowned.
“What is that?”
Leah answered.
“Internal legal memo. Three years old.”
“About Victor Cole?”
“Yes.”
Marcus stared.
The memo analyzed the expired 2009 option and concluded Cole Meridian had no valid claim.
Only legal, the board strategy team and Foundry leadership could access it.
Adrian had access because of his promotion track.
Someone had specifically searched for it.
Marcus felt the pattern snap into place.
Madison had not simply copied a map.
She had been looking for the old agreement.
For her father.
Peter clicked another log.
The legal memo had been opened.
Then copied.
Marcus whispered, “She knew what she was looking for.”
Leah’s phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
“Outside counsel.”
She answered, listened, then looked at Marcus.
“Cole Meridian filed suit this morning.”
Marcus stood.
“What are they asking for?”
“A temporary restraining order preventing us from transferring, financing, developing or encumbering the Foundry property.”
“Based on the altered option?”
“Based on their version.”
Marcus looked through the glass at the Reed Global logo etched into the conference-room wall.
A company he had built.
A property his father had nearly lost.
A woman he once trusted.
An executive who had trusted her.
Leah ended the call.
“The hearing is tomorrow.”
Marcus picked up his jacket.
His mother’s words returned.
Facts first.
Hurt second.
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He put on the same charcoal blazer Madison had mocked.
“Then we start with the facts.”
