Chapter 5 - Return to Manhattan
Emma’s doctor told her not to fly.
Emma returned to Manhattan anyway.
By train.
Thirty-six weeks pregnant.
Eleven hours.
Rachel accompanied her.
Rebecca met them at Penn Station with a black SUV and the expression of a woman already regretting every life choice that had led her to represent a stubborn pregnant client.
“You look pleased,” Emma said.
“I look professional.”
“You look furious.”
“That too.”
Nathan did not know she was coming.
That was deliberate.
Emma stayed in a suite at a residential hotel six blocks from Mount Sinai.
Not the penthouse.
Not Eleanor’s house.
Not anywhere associated with Nathan.
By sunrise the next morning, Rebecca had arranged Emma’s voluntary interview.
Nathan found out when his attorney called.
His first instinct was to go to her hotel.
He stopped himself before leaving the office.
Instead he texted:
I heard you’re in New York. I hope the trip wasn’t too difficult. If you need anything practical, tell Rebecca. I won’t come unless you ask.
Emma read the message twice.
Then put the phone away.
The interview lasted four hours.
Emma answered every question.
Her early role in the foundation.
Malcolm Voss.
Electronic signatures.
Her departure from finance oversight.
Her marriage.
Olivia.
The prosecutor finally slid the Harbor Meridian document across the table.
“Mrs. Whitmore, is this your signature?”
“It looks like it.”
“Did you authorize the payment?”
“No.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I was in Boston.”
“We have travel records confirming that.”
Emma looked at Rebecca.
The prosecutor continued.
“What interests us is not whether you physically signed it that day.”
Emma frowned.
“What interests you?”
“Why someone needed your authorization at all.”
“I don’t understand.”
“At the time, foundation policy required two signatures for vendors exceeding five hundred thousand dollars.”
“One finance committee member and one executive.”
“Yes.”
“Whose other signature?”
The prosecutor turned the document.
Emma read the name.
Nathan Whitmore.
Her heart sank.
“Did he sign it?”
“We’re asking you.”
“I don’t know.”
The prosecutor studied her.
“Did your husband ever discuss Harbor Meridian with you?”
“No.”
“Malcolm Voss?”
“Not in connection with that vendor.”
“Olivia Grant?”
“She didn’t work for us then.”
The prosecutor nodded.
Emma caught the phrasing.
Then.
“Olivia joined later.”
“Yes.”
“How much later?”
“Three years.”
Emma leaned back.
“So how does she know about a seven-year-old transaction?”
The prosecutor didn’t answer.
That was an answer.
Olivia had access to records someone did not want her to have.
But whether she was whistleblower, extortionist, thief, or all three remained unclear.
When Emma left the federal building, cameras were waiting.
Rebecca swore under her breath.
“Keep moving.”
Emma stepped toward the SUV.
Then a reporter shouted:
“Emma! Did Nathan Whitmore forge your signature?”
She stopped.
Rebecca whispered:
“Don’t.”
Another reporter shouted:
“Are you divorcing him?”
“Emma, did Olivia Grant have an affair with your husband?”
“Was your pregnancy the reason you left?”
Emma froze.
The pregnancy.
Nobody was supposed to know.
Her hand moved over her stomach.
Flashbulbs exploded.
Rebecca stepped in front of her.
“Car. Now.”
By the time Emma reached the hotel, the photographs were everywhere.
PREGNANT EMMA WHITMORE RETURNS AMID FEDERAL PROBE
Nathan saw the first image in his office.
Emma shielding her stomach.
Cameras surrounding her.
His face went cold.
“Who leaked it?”
His attorney shook his head.
“We don’t know.”
“Find out.”
Nathan stopped.
The command hung in the room.
Old Nathan.
He exhaled.
“No.”
His attorney stared.
“Tell investigators and Emma’s counsel that someone disclosed private medical information. Let them handle it.”
His phone rang.
Emma.
Nathan answered immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No.”
“Your mother?”
“Not publicly.”
“The board?”
“They knew because of my scheduling changes.”
“Olivia?”
Nathan went silent.
Emma understood.
“She knew.”
“She suspected before you left.”
“How?”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“The gala.”
“What about it?”
“She asked me that afternoon whether you were pregnant.”
Emma felt cold.
“What did you say?”
“I said I didn’t know.”
“And?”
“She said your dress looked different.”
Emma stared toward the hotel window.
Olivia had been watching her.
Long before Emma knew how carefully.
“Nathan.”
“Yes?”
“I want to see you.”
He was quiet.
“Where?”
“My attorney’s office. One hour.”
“I’ll be there.”
Emma was waiting when Nathan arrived.
No tie.
No entourage.
He sat opposite her.
“You look tired,” he said.
“I am.”
He caught himself.
“I’m not going to tell you to rest.”
“Good.”
Emma slid a printed email across the desk.
Nathan read it.
His expression changed.
“What is this?”
“Something Rebecca obtained this morning.”
The email was from Olivia to Malcolm Voss.
Dated eighteen months earlier.
I found the Meridian archive. We need to discuss what you promised me.
Nathan read it twice.
“They knew each other.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“That’s what I want to know.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“I never knew they had contact.”
“There’s more.”
Emma placed another page down.
This one was from Malcolm.
Stay close to N. Access is everything.
Nathan went perfectly still.
Emma watched him.
“Olivia didn’t just become emotionally involved with you.”
Nathan’s face drained.
“She targeted me.”
“Maybe.”
He looked sick.
Emma leaned forward.
“And before you turn yourself into the victim, remember something.”
Nathan looked at her.
“She could only get close because you let her.”
He swallowed.
“I know.”
That answer mattered.
Emma continued.
“The question isn’t whether Olivia manipulated you.”
“It’s what she was trying to reach.”
“Yes.”
Nathan stared at the email.
Then his phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Emma nodded toward it.
“You should check.”
Nathan looked.
Three missed calls from company counsel.
A message beneath them.
His eyes widened.
“What?”
Nathan stood.
“Malcolm Voss was detained entering the United States.”
Emma’s pulse jumped.
“Where?”
“JFK.”
“Why was he coming back?”
Nathan read the rest.
Then looked at her.
“He says he came back to make a deal.”
“With prosecutors?”
“Yes.”
Nathan’s face hardened.
“And his lawyer says Malcolm is ready to name the person who ordered the first fraudulent payment.”
Emma held her breath.
“Who?”
May you like
Nathan looked at the screen.
“He says it was a Whitmore.”
