Chapter 7 - THE ENEMY INSIDE MY COMPANYFive employees.
“She’s alive?”
Detective Grant never changed his answer.
“Yes.”
“My wife?”
“Yes.”
“And the baby?”
“Your son is alive.”
Nathan stared at the photograph.
His lawyer repeatedly told him not to speak.
Nathan didn't seem to hear.
“How?”
Grant leaned back.
“Mountain rescue.”
“I…”
Nathan stopped.
His attorney grabbed his arm.
“Nathan. Do not say another word.”
Too late.
The word hanging unfinished in the room was obvious.
I watched from behind one-way glass.
My hands were cold.
I had imagined this moment countless times during the previous two weeks.
In some versions, I felt triumphant.
In others, furious.
Instead, I felt almost nothing.
Nathan looked smaller than I remembered.
Not physically.
Morally.
The enormous monster in my mind had become a frightened man sitting under fluorescent lights.
He had almost killed me.
He had nearly stolen my company.
He had endangered our baby.
But he was not powerful anymore.
Evidence had stripped away the illusion.
His attorney ended the interview.
Nathan was taken to detention.
Victor Hale was charged with conspiracy, attempted theft of restricted technology, procurement fraud and multiple financial crimes.
The attempted-murder conspiracy was more complicated.
Hale insisted he had never authorized Nathan to kill me.
Nathan claimed Hale had encouraged “whatever was necessary.”
Rebecca became the bridge.
She asked for a deal within twelve hours.
At first I hated the idea.
“She tried to poison me.”
Desai nodded.
“She did.”
“She watched Nathan leave me on that cliff.”
“Yes.”
“And now she gets to bargain?”
“She gets to provide evidence. A judge decides what that is worth.”
I understood the logic.
Emotion didn't care.
Rebecca's proffer lasted nine hours.
She admitted the affair began eighteen months earlier.
Nathan told her I was blocking a deal that could make them wealthy.
He said our marriage was effectively over.
Then he convinced her I was emotionally unstable.
Next came the insurance.
The forged corporate resolutions.
The offshore accounts.
And finally, the attempt to trigger premature labor at twenty-eight weeks.
Rebecca insisted Nathan told her the substance would merely cause severe cramping and force me onto bed rest.
She claimed she didn't know it could threaten the pregnancy.
Whether that was true would become a question for court.
But she had kept messages.
Hundreds.
Nathan never deleted as thoroughly as he believed.
One message was especially damning.
Nathan to Rebecca:
If Claire loses the baby, her trust changes and selling gets easier.
Another:
If neither of them is here, there is nothing left to fight over.
I read that one twice.
Then gave the phone back.
“I never want to see these again.”
Desai nodded.
“You don't have to.”
Nathan's arrest became national news the following morning.
The dead wife wasn't dead.
The grieving husband was accused of trying to kill her.
A newborn had survived.
A multimillion-dollar defense technology conspiracy sat underneath it all.
Reporters camped outside our house.
Outside Cole Biomedical.
Outside the courthouse.
They tried locating me.
Agents kept Eli and me hidden.
For once, hiding felt like power rather than fear.
The board of Cole Biomedical held an emergency meeting.
Nathan was suspended immediately.
My voting rights were restored.
I joined remotely from a secure location.
When my face appeared on the screen, half the board cried.
The other half looked stunned.
Then came the uncomfortable part.
Two directors had supported Nathan's rapid sale.
One, Marcus Bell, had signed documents claiming I previously approved negotiations.
I hadn't.
“Marcus,” I said, “where did that authorization come from?”
He looked pale.
“Nathan presented it.”
“You knew the signature wasn't mine.”
“I believed it was electronic.”
“You worked with me for eleven years.”
Silence.
“You knew.”
He resigned before the meeting ended.
By lunchtime, federal investigators were interviewing him too.
Cole Biomedical's stock ownership structure stabilized.
Contracts were preserved.
Employees received a companywide message stating I was alive, recovering, and temporarily stepping away from daily operations.
I rewrote the final paragraph myself.
The strength of any organization is not measured by whether betrayal occurs. It is measured by what honest people do after they discover it.
I didn't name Nathan.
I didn't need to.
A week later, I returned home.
Not because I felt ready.
Because I refused to let Nathan own the geography of my life.
Police had completed their searches.
Rebecca's belongings were removed.
The locks were changed again.
My parents came with me.
Dad carried Eli.
Mom carried enough groceries for an army.
I stood outside the front door for nearly a minute.
The last time I'd left this house, Nathan had kissed me.
“Ready for our adventure?” he'd asked.
I had smiled.
Now I touched the scar near my temple.
“Claire?” Dad asked.
“I'm okay.”
I wasn't.
But I went inside.
The house smelled wrong.
Rebecca's perfume.
Nathan's cologne.
Cleaning chemicals.
I walked room to room.
Kitchen.
Living room.
Office.
Bedroom.
Then Eli's nursery.
Empty.
I stood in the doorway.
Mom swore softly behind me.
The walls were still pale blue.
But everything else was gone.
A rectangle of cleaner carpet showed where the crib had stood.
Nail holes marked the place above it.
I stepped inside.
“This was his room.”
Dad's voice was gentle.
“It still is.”
That afternoon, something unexpected happened.
The doorbell rang.
A delivery truck waited outside.
Six Cole Biomedical employees stood behind it.
My assistant, Janice, stepped forward.
“We found out where the nursery furniture went.”
I stared.
“What?”
“A disposal company.”
She smiled.
“We got there before it was destroyed.”
Workers carried in the crib.
The dresser.
The rocking chair.
Boxes.
Finally, the wooden airplane mobile.
One wing had broken.
Our chief engineer, who could design battlefield diagnostic equipment but apparently had strong feelings about children's decorations, had repaired it with a tiny brass brace.
I cried when I saw it.
Not dramatic tears.
Just quiet ones.
People rebuilt the nursery while I sat in the rocking chair holding Eli.
No reporters.
No cameras.
No revenge.
Just good people restoring what one cruel man had tried to throw away.
That night, I placed Eli in his crib for the first time.
He immediately woke up and screamed.
Mom laughed.
“All that work and he hates it.”
“He has excellent timing.”
I picked him up.
He settled against me.
Through the window, snow was beginning to fall.
For a moment, my body remembered the mountain.
My heart raced.
My palms became damp.
I saw Nathan above me.
Then Eli moved.
One small foot pressed against my ribs.
Kick.
The same movement that had kept me conscious.
I breathed.
“We're home.”
My phone rang.
Detective Grant.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Claire, I'm sorry to call this late.”
“What happened?”
“We executed another warrant on Hale's private office.”
“And?”
“We found files referencing Cole Biomedical employees.”
My stomach tightened.
“How many?”
“Seven.”
“Doing what?”
“Providing internal information.”
I sat down slowly.
Nathan and Rebecca had not acted alone inside my company.
“Are they still employed?”
“Five are.”
I looked toward Eli's nursery.
My fight wasn't over.
May you like
It had only changed locations.
“Send me the names.”
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