Chapter 4: The Fourth Founder
"Lock the garage.""
Nathaniel was already dialing security.
"Nobody lets Desmond leave with anything from that car.""
Chairman Voss grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair.
"Wren, stay here.""
I stared at him.
"You've known me since I was a child, Alistair. You should know better than to say that.""
I followed them.
The elevator ride to the underground garage felt endless.
My father's unopened letter trembled between my fingers.
Beside me, Voss looked twenty years older than he had onstage.
"Who's the fourth founder?"" I asked.
He kept his eyes on the descending floor numbers.
"Wren—"
"Name.""
Nathaniel glanced at him.
Voss finally answered.
"Gideon Mercer.""
My stomach dropped.
"Mercer?""
"Yes.""
"Isolde's family?""
Voss nodded.
The elevator doors opened.
Cold concrete air rushed toward us.
Two security guards stood beside Voss's black sedan.
The rear passenger window was shattered.
Glass glittered across the pavement.
"Where is Desmond?"" Nathaniel demanded.
A guard pointed toward the exit ramp.
"He ran when we approached him. Police have been called.""
"Did he take anything?""
"We don't know.""
Voss hurried to the car.
The glove compartment hung open.
A leather document case had been ripped apart on the back seat.
"Alistair," I said, "why were my father's files in your car?""
"I brought them tonight because I intended to give them to you after the announcement.""
"All of them?""
"Everything I had.""
He searched beneath the seat.
His face drained.
"No.""
"What?""
"The blue folder.""
Nathaniel stepped closer.
"Which folder?""
Voss looked at me.
"The original partnership agreement.""
I laughed once, without humor.
"Of course.""
Nathaniel called security again.
"Get footage from every garage camera. Now.""
I unfolded my father's letter.
I couldn't wait anymore.
The first sentence nearly stopped my heart.
Wren, if you're reading this, then you finally own enough of Corvina to protect yourself from what ownership reveals.
I read on.
Your mother, Elaine, did not leave Corvina willingly.
I swallowed.
Voss watched me.
"Keep reading.""
So I did.
My father described Corvina's beginning.
Four people.
My parents.
Alistair Voss.
Gideon Mercer.
They had built the company from a cramped office above a printing shop.
My mother had designed an early data-security architecture that became Corvina's first profitable product.
Gideon handled financing.
Then money disappeared.
Not millions.
Not at first.
Small amounts hidden through vendors and licensing agreements.
My mother discovered it.
"History repeating itself," Nathaniel murmured.
I looked at him.
"What?""
"Fake vendors. Layered transfers. Related parties.""
Exactly what Desmond appeared to have done.
I returned to the letter.
My mother had planned to expose Gideon at a board meeting.
She never made it there.
Her car crashed the night before.
My hands stopped moving.
"No.""
Voss closed his eyes.
"The official investigation found no evidence of criminal involvement.""
"But my father didn't believe it.""
"No.""
"Did you?""
Voss hesitated.
"Neither did I.""
Anger surged through me.
"Then why did nobody tell me?""
"Because your father became obsessed with proving it. He spent years chasing records that disappeared, witnesses who changed stories, accounts that closed overnight.""
"And Gideon?""
"Sold his interest and vanished from Corvina.""
"Convenient.""
Nathaniel's phone rang.
He answered.
"Yes?""
His expression sharpened.
"Send it.""
A moment later, footage appeared on his screen.
We crowded around him.
Desmond entered the garage.
He went directly to Voss's sedan.
Not searching.
Not guessing.
Directly.
He smashed the window, opened the rear door, pulled out the document case, and removed one blue folder.
Then he ran.
"He knew exactly where it was," I whispered.
Voss looked sick.
"Which means somebody told him.""
My mind went immediately to Isolde.
"Gideon's daughter?""
"Niece," Voss corrected.
"Isolde is Gideon's niece.""
"Does she know?""
"I don't know.""
I looked at Nathaniel.
"Find her.""
We returned upstairs.
Isolde was sitting alone outside the ballroom, mascara streaking beneath her eyes.
The moment she saw us, she stood.
"Where's Desmond?""
I held up the old photograph.
Her reaction was immediate.
She recognized Gideon.
"You know him.""
Her lips parted.
"That's my uncle.""
"Was.""
"What?""
I stepped closer.
"Where is Gideon Mercer?""
"I don't know.""
"Try again.""
"Wren, I haven't seen him since I was twelve.""
"Did Desmond?""
Her face changed.
That was enough.
"Isolde.""
She shook her head.
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
"Desmond just stole a thirty-two-year-old partnership agreement involving your uncle.""
She stared at me.
"Why would he do that?""
"That's what I'm asking you.""
She sank back into the chair.
Then she covered her face.
"He found something.""
"What?""
"Months ago.""
My heartbeat quickened.
"He was going through old corporate archives. He said he found documents proving your family had hidden assets.""
"What documents?""
"I never saw them.""
"Did he mention my mother?""
Silence.
"Isolde.""
"Yes.""
The word barely escaped her.
"He said Elaine Ashcombe was the key.""
My fingers curled around the photograph.
"Key to what?""
"I don't know.""
She looked terrified now.
"He started meeting someone every Thursday night. He wouldn't tell me who.""
"Where?""
"A private club downtown.""
"Name.""
"The Marrow Club.""
Voss and Nathaniel exchanged a glance.
They knew it.
I didn't.
"Who owns it?""
Nathaniel answered.
"A holding company.""
"Whose?""
He pulled out his phone.
Before he could search, Isolde spoke.
"My uncle used to.""
Everything inside me went still.
"Used to?""
She nodded.
"Before everyone said he died.""
I stared at her.
"Everyone said?""
Isolde wiped her cheeks.
"There was never a funeral.""
The hallway seemed suddenly colder.
"When did Gideon supposedly die?""
"Nine years ago.""
"Supposedly?""
She looked at the photograph in my hand.
"Three months ago, I saw him.""
Voss grabbed the back of a chair.
"Where?""
"At the Marrow Club.""
"Did he see you?""
"Yes.""
"What did he say?""
May you like
Isolde looked directly at me.
"He asked whether Desmond had gotten close enough to Wren yet.""
