Chapter 11: Rebecca Shaw
I hadn't thought about Rebecca in years.
She joined Carter Logistics when we were still operating from a cramped warehouse with a leaking roof.
She was twenty-eight, meticulous, and almost painfully quiet.
She never missed a decimal.
Then one Monday morning, she disappeared.
Bradley told me she had quit.
I had been furious because she hadn't given notice.
Now I wondered if any of that had been true.
“Find Rebecca,” I told Claire.
“At midnight?””
“Tonight.””
I searched old emails while Claire worked.
Rebecca's company address had been deactivated.
But buried in an old Christmas mailing list was a personal email.
I wrote three words.
*Please call me.*
Then added:
*It’s about Bradley.*
The response came six minutes later.
*Where are you?*
I sent the hotel name but not my room number.
Rebecca replied:
*Stay there. I'm calling.*
My phone rang immediately.
“Madison?””
Her voice sounded older.
“Rebecca.””
“You finally found it.””
I gripped the phone.
“Found what?””
She laughed without humor.
“So you still don't know.””
“Know what?””
“Why I left.””
“You resigned.””
“No.””
My skin prickled.
“Bradley fired me.””
“He didn't have authority to fire you.””
“I know.””
“Then why did you leave?””
“Because he threatened me.””
I sat down.
“With what?””
“Police.””
My confusion deepened.
“He accused me of stealing.””
“Did you?””
“No.””
The answer came instantly.
“I found transfers from your company.””
My heart stopped.
“When?””
“Seven years ago.””
Seven.
Not eighteen months.
Not last year.
Seven years.
Right after Bradley and I married.
“What transfers?””
“Small ones at first. Five hundred. Eight hundred. Twelve hundred.””
“To who?””
“Companies connected to his family.””
My stomach twisted.
“This started seven years ago?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“I tried.””
I remembered Rebecca asking to meet with me privately.
I had been leaving for a client presentation.
Bradley was in my office.
He had smiled and said, “I'll handle whatever she needs.””
I never saw her again.
“He told me you had evidence that I was embezzling,” Rebecca continued.
“He said if I contacted you, he'd turn it over to police.””
“Did he have evidence?””
“Fabricated invoices.””
Of course.
“Why didn't you fight?””
Rebecca went quiet.
“I was pregnant.””
My anger softened.
“I didn't know.””
“Nobody did.””
She exhaled.
“I was terrified. I had no savings. No attorney. Bradley offered me a choice—leave quietly or spend the pregnancy defending myself against a criminal accusation.””
I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry.””
“You didn't know.””
“I should have.””
“He made sure you didn't.””
I thought about the archive box.
“Rebecca, your old personnel file was stolen from my warehouse tonight.””
Silence.
“What?””
“Bradley broke in.””
Her breathing changed.
“He knows.””
“Knows what?””
“That I kept copies.””
My pulse accelerated.
“Copies of what?””
“The original ledger.””
I stood.
“Where is it?””
“Safe.””
“Can you bring it?””
“Not tonight.””
“Why?””
“My daughter is asleep upstairs.””
Daughter.
Seven years old.
The timeline hit me strangely.
Then Rebecca said, “Madison, there’s something else.””
“What?””
“Bradley wasn't doing this alone.””
“Barbara?””
“No.””
That surprised me.
“Then who?””
“Someone inside your company.””
My mind raced through employees.
“Who?””
“I never knew the name.””
“What do you know?””
“Someone with administrative access changed invoices after I approved them.””
“Could Bradley do that?””
“Not then.””
She was right.
Seven years ago, Bradley barely knew our systems.
“Who had access?””
“You. Me. And one other person.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who?””
Rebecca hesitated.
“Your original business partner.””
I stopped breathing.
“No.””
“Maddie—”
“No. Claire helped me build this company.””
“I know.””
“She's been with me for nine years.””
“I’m telling you what the system logs showed.””
I stared at my phone.
Claire.
The woman currently helping me lock Bradley out.
The woman who found him on camera.
The woman I trusted almost as much as family.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“Maybe there's an explanation.””
I wanted there to be.
Then my laptop chimed.
An email.
From Claire.
*Police are asking for the original access logs. I'm downloading them now.*
I stared at it.
Rebecca whispered, “Madison?””
I couldn't answer.
Because another email appeared.
An automated security notice.
*Administrative account deleting archived access records.*
May you like
Account owner:
*Claire Bennett.*
