Chapter 9: The Woman Behind the Door
"We're not going.""
Voss said it before I could speak.
I looked at the photograph again.
Rachel.
Desmond.
My father's device.
"Yes, we are.""
"It's obviously a trap.""
"Probably.""
"Then why would you walk into it?""
"Because Desmond wants something.""
Callum stood.
"The flash drive.""
I looked at him.
"He knows you have it?""
"He suspected.""
"Then that's why he called.""
Voss shook his head.
"We give this to law enforcement.""
"We will.""
I held out my hand.
"Give me the drive.""
Callum hesitated.
"Now.""
He handed it over.
I passed it directly to Voss.
"Make a copy.""
Callum blinked.
Then smiled faintly.
"Your father would've done the same thing.""
The words hurt more than I expected.
Forty minutes later, I entered the Harbor Club with outside counsel and two private security officers nearby.
Voss remained with Callum and the evidence.
Naomi had already notified the appropriate authorities about the suspected financial crimes.
I wasn't going to confront Desmond alone.
But I wanted him to believe I had.
The Harbor Club was almost empty.
A night manager led me upstairs.
"Private dining room three.""
My heels sank into thick carpet.
At the end of the corridor stood a mahogany door.
I opened it.
Rachel Moore sat alone.
Desmond wasn't there.
She looked exhausted.
Her immaculate hair was loose around her shoulders.
A glass of untouched whiskey sat before her.
On the table lay a small black device.
My father's.
I recognized the scratch along its edge.
"Where is Desmond?""
Rachel gave a hollow laugh.
"He said you'd ask that first.""
I stayed near the door.
"What did he promise you?""
"Nothing.""
"What did he threaten you with?""
Her eyes lifted.
That was the right question.
"He knows about my son.""
"What about him?""
"Debt.""
She looked away.
"My son got into trouble three years ago. Gambling. Loans. Desmond found out.""
History repeating itself.
"What did Desmond make you do?""
"Schedules at first.""
"My meetings with Voss.""
She nodded.
"Then documents.""
"What documents?""
"Board materials. Acquisition discussions. Anything involving Ashcombe Capital.""
"So he knew I was buying Corvina.""
"Not until recently.""
"When?""
"Four days ago.""
One day before the $4.8 million transfer.
There it was.
"Why help him?""
"He paid my son's debts.""
"With Corvina's money?""
"I don't know.""
"You never asked?""
Her face crumpled.
"No.""
I sat opposite her.
"What happened eight years ago?""
Rachel stared at the authentication device.
"I wasn't there.""
"Then why do you have that?""
"Desmond gave it to me tonight.""
"Why?""
"He told me to destroy it.""
My pulse quickened.
"And you didn't.""
"No.""
"Why?""
She finally looked at me.
"Because I heard what happened at the gala.""
Something bitter passed through her expression.
"I spent nine years watching Desmond walk through Corvina like he owned every person inside it. I thought if I did what he wanted, eventually he'd leave me alone.""
"Men like Desmond don't leave people alone.""
"I know that now.""
"Where is he?""
"I genuinely don't know.""
I believed her.
Not completely.
Enough to keep listening.
Rachel pushed the device toward me.
"He said this was the last thing connecting him to your father.""
I didn't touch it.
"What does it contain?""
"Access logs.""
"From eight years ago?""
"Maybe.""
"Why keep it?""
"Leverage.""
Of course.
Desmond collected leverage the way other people collected photographs.
"Rachel, did my father know Desmond was stealing from him?""
"Yes.""
My breath caught.
"How do you know?""
"Because your father called Chairman Voss the night he died.""
I frowned.
Voss had never mentioned that.
"What did he say?""
"I don't know. But the call lasted seven minutes.""
"How would you know about a call eight years before you worked for Corvina?""
Rachel looked toward the door.
"Because I didn't start working for Elias Voss nine years ago.""
A chill moved across my skin.
"What?""
"I started working for your father twelve years ago.""
I stood.
"No.""
"He hired me privately.""
"To do what?""
"Watch Desmond.""
The room seemed to shrink.
"Why didn't Voss tell me?""
"He didn't know.""
That answer hit harder.
My father hadn't trusted Voss either.
Rachel reached into her bag.
My security detail shifted outside the doorway.
She slowly removed an old voice recorder.
"Your father gave me this three days before he died.""
I stared at it.
"What is on it?""
"His instructions.""
"For what?""
"For you.""
My throat tightened.
"Why wait eight years?""
"Because he told me not to give it to you unless Desmond tried to access the Ashcombe trusts again.""
"He did. Seventeen times.""
"I know.""
Anger surged through me.
"Then why didn't you come to me?""
"Because Desmond discovered I had it.""
"And blackmailed you.""
She nodded.
I looked at the recorder.
"Play it.""
Rachel pressed the button.
Static filled the room.
Then I heard him.
My father's voice.
Eight years gone.
Suddenly alive again.
"If Wren is hearing this, then I failed to stop Desmond.""
My eyes burned.
I gripped the table.
The recording continued.
"Sweetheart, whatever he has told you about how you met, your marriage, or Corvina, understand this first.""
A pause.
Then my father's voice became quieter.
"Desmond did not choose you because he loved you.""
I closed my eyes.
I already knew.
But hearing my father say it shattered something anyway.
Then came the sentence I wasn't prepared for.
"He chose you because I paid him to.""
I opened my eyes.
Rachel was crying.
"What?""
The recording crackled.
My father's voice returned.
"And if you want to understand why I made the worst mistake of my life, find the original Corvina incorporation agreement.""
Rachel stopped the recording.
I stared at her.
"Where is it?""
She whispered, "Desmond has spent eight years making sure you never see it.""
"Why?""
Before she could answer, the door behind me clicked shut.
A man's voice came from the dark adjoining room.
"Because once you read page seventeen, Wren, you'll understand that Corvina was never supposed to belong to Voss.""
Desmond stepped into the light.
May you like
His eyes locked on mine.
"It was supposed to belong to you.""
