Chapter 15
Paul surrendered the next morning.
I wasn’t allowed in the interview.
Neither was Claire.
We waited in a conference room at the district attorney’s office while attorneys moved in and out.
Every door opening made Claire look up.
Finally, an investigator came in.
“We need you to prepare for information that may be difficult.”
Claire laughed without humor.
“I think we passed difficult three days ago.”
The investigator sat.
“Mr. Mercer says Charles Harrington hired him eighteen months ago.”
Rachel whispered, “Eighteen?”
Long before Harrington donated to us.
Paul had been feeding Charles information about my company, my foundation, and my relationship.
I felt physically sick.
“Why?”
“Money.”
“How much?”
“Approximately four hundred thousand dollars.”
I looked at the table.
A friendship had a price.
Apparently mine was four hundred thousand.
Paul had altered documents.
Copied my credentials.
Helped create Eastline.
Stolen internal emails.
Then Charles ordered him to transfer six hundred thousand.
But that money had not remained with Eastline.
It was routed toward someone Paul knew only as “D.G.”
“Who is D.G.?”
“We’re investigating.”
The payment instructions mentioned medical records.
Specifically, Daniel Lawson’s original pharmacy and toxicology files.
Claire gripped the edge of the table.
“Someone was paid to destroy them?”
“That is what Mr. Mercer believes.”
“Did they?”
“We don’t know.”
The investigator continued.
Paul said Charles had become increasingly obsessed with the old Lawson evidence after learning Claire planned to marry me.
“Why would our engagement matter?” I asked.
“According to Mercer, Mr. Harrington believed you had the resources and connections to encourage Claire to audit her trust.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“He was right.”
Yes.
But not because I wanted her money.
Because I kept telling her she wasn’t crazy when her mother made her feel crazy.
Apparently that was enough to threaten Charles.
The investigator also told us Paul had copied one final file before leaving.
A recording of Charles talking to the mysterious D.G.
It was being authenticated.
We returned to the foundation.
I expected anger.
Instead, I felt grief.
Rachel found me alone in my office.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“Did you know Paul’s daughter calls me Uncle James?”
Rachel sat down.
“I know.”
“He came to Mom’s funeral.”
“I know.”
“I gave him a loan when his wife was sick.”
“I know.”
I looked at her.
“How do people do that?”
“Do what?”
“Sit at your table while selling pieces of your life.”
Rachel looked toward the hallway.
“Maybe they tell themselves it isn’t personal.”
“That makes it worse.”
She nodded.
“Probably.”
At four, Paul asked to see me.
My attorney told me not to go.
I went anyway.
We met through glass in a secure interview area.
Paul looked terrible.
He picked up the phone.
So did I.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “I’m sorry.”
I almost hung up.
Instead I asked, “Why?”
His eyes filled.
“Debt.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“My wife’s treatment destroyed us financially.”
I knew about her cancer.
I had helped.
Apparently not enough.
“Charles offered money.”
“So you sold me.”
Paul cried.
“I told myself I was only giving him business information.”
“You forged my signature.”
“I know.”
“You stole from families.”
“I know.”
“You helped him threaten Claire.”
“I didn’t know about Claire at first.”
“At first.”
He lowered his head.
I wanted to hate him cleanly.
Life refused to be that simple.
He had been desperate.
Then greedy.
Then trapped.
None erased what he did.
“Why come back?”
Paul looked at me.
“Because Charles told me to destroy the last copy of Daniel’s recording.”
“What recording?”
“The one with D.G.”
“And?”
“I listened first.”
His face went pale.
“I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
Paul swallowed.
“Because they were talking about medication.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Daniel’s?”
“Yes.”
“What did they say?”
“Charles asked whether anyone could still prove the dosage was changed.”
Claire’s father.
Heart medication.
Changed dosage.
My breathing slowed.
“Who is D.G.?”
Paul looked toward the investigator.
“I don’t know.”
“You said you had a recording.”
“I do.”
“Then let me hear it.”
“I can’t.”
“Paul.”
“The prosecutor has it.”
I leaned closer to the glass.
“Did Charles kill Daniel Lawson?”
Paul started crying harder.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I KNOW.”
A guard stepped closer.
Paul lowered his voice.
“But I know Charles believes there is evidence that can prove something.”
“What evidence?”
“A pharmacy ledger.”
“Where?”
“He thought it was destroyed.”
“And now?”
Paul shook his head.
“He learned someone kept a backup.”
My heart pounded.
“Who?”
Before Paul could answer, the investigator entered.
“Time.”
I stood.
Paul hit the glass.
“James.”
I looked back.
“If they find that ledger, protect Claire.”
“From Charles?”
Paul shook his head.
“No.”
May you like
His eyes filled with fear.
“From her mother.”
