No dramatic assassination attempt.
Reality occasionally refused to become a thriller.
Good.
Arielle visited the hospital.
Margaret looked furious to be there.
“I’m fine.”
“You were unconscious.”
“Temporary.”
“That is an interesting medical category.”
Margaret almost smiled.
Then saw Arielle’s expression.
“What?”
Arielle closed the door.
“Ethan.”
Margaret’s face changed.
Not surprise.
That was worse.
“You suspected.”
Margaret looked toward the hospital window.
“What did you find?”
“Welles Advisory.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“How much did you know?”
“Not this.”
“What did you know?”
Margaret took a slow breath.
“Ethan had consulting relationships with luxury vendors.”
“You let him remain audit chair?”
“They were disclosed.”
“Were they?”
“To legal.”
“Which legal?”
Margaret understood.
Former general counsel.
The one who resigned.
Arielle continued:
“He received 4.6 million from Bellrose-controlled budgets.”
Margaret whispered:
“No.”
“Three years.”
“No.”
“Priya has the transfers.”
Margaret looked physically ill.
Arielle asked:
“Why did you hire me?”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“Because of him.”
Arielle went still.
Margaret continued:
“I saw an audit committee memo.”
“Ethan wanted the customer complaints classified as resolved litigation risk.”
“He said reopening them would create unnecessary exposure.”
“I thought he was protecting the company.”
“Then Elena brought me the bracelet serial.”
“I asked Ethan about it.”
“What did he say?”
“Database error.”
“Same as Malcolm.”
“Yes.”
“What happened next?”
“He told me I was becoming paranoid.”
Arielle almost smiled.
“Classic.”
Margaret continued:
“I realized I did not know whether he was dismissing me because I was old…”
“Or because he knew something.”
“So I hired you without committee approval.”
“Except Ethan signed engagement paperwork.”
“After?”
“Yes.”
“I had already retained you through founder authority.”
“Then why let him sign?”
“To make it look routine.”
Arielle stared.
Margaret gave a weak smile.
“I can be sneaky too.”
“Apparently not enough.”
Margaret looked toward her.
“What do you think Ethan is doing?”
“I think your son may be helping move stolen inventory through marketing vendors.”
Margaret turned away.
Arielle let silence sit.
Then Margaret whispered:
“He grew up inside Bellrose.”
“I know.”
“He used to sleep under my father’s desk during Christmas inventory.”
“I know.”
“His first job was wrapping boxes.”
Arielle said nothing.
Margaret’s voice broke.
“I know those things do not matter.”
“They matter to you.”
“That’s different.”
Margaret looked toward her.
“If it’s true…”
“What?”
“Do not protect him.”
Arielle held her gaze.
“I won’t.”
“Even if I ask.”
“You won’t.”
“You sound sure.”
“I’ve met you.”
Margaret almost laughed.
Then cried instead.
The search warrants came two days later.
Not because Arielle demanded them.
Because police and prosecutors independently reviewed evidence.
Malcolm’s apartment.
Colton’s office.