Chapter 17 - THE COUNTERATTACK
My mother regained consciousness the next morning.
She could barely move.
But her eyes were clear.
I brought the alphabet board.
“Fire authorization.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Where?”
It took almost twenty minutes.
B.
R.
E.
A.
T.
H.
I frowned.
“Breathing?”
One blink.
Then I understood.
Her breathing machine.
The machine had been replaced once, four years earlier.
The original unit was stored in the medical equipment room.
Vincent and I opened it.
Inside the hollow rear panel was a sealed envelope.
Ewan’s missing document.
A signed demolition-style work authorization ordering Warehouse C to be “cleared by any means necessary” before an insurance inspection.
The authorization had been approved through a shell company.
The ultimate controlling officer was Victor Vandermark.
Attached was a handwritten note from Roman.
V — Ewan will be there after midnight.
Roman had known.
Maybe he had not known Victor planned a fire.
But he had given him Ewan’s location.
The evidence was enough.
I could have turned it over immediately.
Instead, Miriam suggested one last move.
“Celeste still believes you’re desperate.”
“She’ll never confess.”
“She doesn’t have to confess to everything.”
“What do you want?”
“Let her believe you’ll sign.”
So we announced that the wedding would proceed privately.
Friday.
No guests.
No press.
Only attorneys.
Celeste arrived wearing white.
Not a wedding gown.
A white suit.
She looked at the documents on the conference table.
“You finally came to your senses.”
“No.”
I handed her a pen.
“I came to yours.”
She smiled.
Victor joined by video.
Roman was absent.
Celeste noticed.
“Where is he?”
“Busy.”
She looked suspicious.
I pushed the consolidation agreement toward her.
“You wanted my signature.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me why.”
“To save the company.”
“Try again.”
Her smile faded.
“To end the trust dispute.”
“Closer.”
She leaned forward.
“The boy’s claim would destroy the harbor.”
“There it is.”
“Theo is a child.”
“He’s Ewan’s son.”
“He is a problem.”
The room went silent.
Celeste realized she had said too much.
Then Miriam entered with federal investigators.
Celeste looked from her to me.
“You set me up.”
“No.”
May you like
I stood.
“You spent four years setting yourself up.”
