Chapter 7 - THE GUARANTEE
The word guarantee landed harder than an accusation.
My name on a dinner authorization was one thing.
My name on a loan guarantee could put assets, employees and decades of work at risk.
"Which bank?" I asked.
The man identified himself as Nathaniel Cross, a lender who had come as a prospective investor rather than a guest of the family.
He explained that a document purportedly guaranteed a financing facility for Price Meridian.
"I have not signed such a guarantee," I said.
Nathaniel studied me.
"Then someone needs to know that immediately."
I asked him to send a copy directly to Ellen's secure address.
In the private room, we reviewed the first page on her video screen.
The document claimed authority from a meeting of our board on March sixth.
There had been a board meeting that day, but the resolution number belonged to an entirely different matter.
It concerned restaurant refrigeration upgrades.
I remembered it because Daniel had argued, persuasively, for replacing equipment ahead of schedule.
"They used a real resolution number," Helen said.
"That suggests someone saw internal minutes."
Ellen asked whether any of the Price family had access to our records.
"Not through authorized company channels," Daniel answered.
Adam interrupted.
"I'm your son. I used to help you with documents."
"At Christmas parties," Helen said sharply.
"You carried wine glasses, Adam. You didn't administer board minutes."
The insult found its mark because it was true.
Adam glared at her.
"You've always tried to turn Mom against me."
"No," Helen answered. "I've spent seventeen years helping her defend your mistakes from public view."
I held up a hand.
Neither history nor emotion would answer who had obtained the minutes.
Sofia returned with a fresh detail.
A man claiming to be a records consultant had visited Bellavita ten days earlier and requested access to old founder files.
He had provided a letter bearing our company logo.
"Did you admit him?" Daniel asked.
"No. I forwarded him to headquarters."
She hesitated.
"He said Adam would confirm it."
Adam shook his head before I spoke.
"I don't know any consultant."
Sofia opened a security image on her tablet.
A man stood at the reception desk in a tan coat, his face turned partly toward the camera.
I recognized him instantly.
My heart began to race.
He was the accountant Thomas had dismissed fifteen years ago for falsifying expenses.
His name was Richard Vale.
May you like
And the last time I had seen him, he had threatened to destroy our family.
