“Make sure Garrett doesn’t get away with it.”
I folded the letter carefully and placed it inside my coat.
“He won’t.”
For the first time that night, I meant it.
Garrett’s downfall began the following morning.
He arrived at the shipyard expecting to chair an emergency meeting about my disappearance. Instead, he found the trustees waiting with legal counsel and a team of investigators.
Eleanor Price sat at the head of the table.
Garrett paused in the doorway.
“What is this?”
“A review of the company’s financial position,” Eleanor replied. “You requested temporary authority over Rosalind’s shares. Before any decision is made, we need a complete accounting of the transactions you’ve overseen.”
Garrett recovered quickly.
“Of course. I have nothing to hide.”
Martin Hale placed a folder on the table.
For several seconds, Garrett appeared relieved.
Then he opened it.
The first page listed transfers to the shell companies. The second contained records from the original ledger. The third showed a timeline of transactions that had taken place shortly before our parents’ deaths.
