Chapter 2 - The Signature That Was Not His
I read the signature four times.
Mauro Vance, Acting Chairman.
It was absurd enough to be funny if it had not been printed on my company's official stationery.
I had founded Hartwell Strategies before I ever met Mauro.
My company had survived two recessions, a failed product launch, and a lawsuit brought by a competitor who thought I was too young to win.
I had not survived those battles to be removed by a man who couldn't balance his personal checking account.
"This title is invented," I told Veronica.
"An invented title can still frighten employees if it comes with a convincing seal," she said.
The seal was real.
The distribution list contained all seven directors.
My fingers felt cold.
"Who authorized the meeting?"
Veronica called our corporate secretary, Evelyn Price.
Evelyn answered on the first ring and sounded as if she had been crying.
"Rebecca, I was about to call you."
"Did you send this?"
"No. Someone accessed the board portal using your credentials."
The kitchen seemed to tilt.
I kept my voice steady.
"When?"
"Monday at 2:16 a.m."
The same night Mauro had left for Colorado.
Evelyn continued.
"The request included a file claiming you had concealed related-party transfers."
"Transfers to whom?"
She hesitated.
"To a consulting company in your name."
I had never heard of the company.
Veronica switched the call to speaker.
"Evelyn, preserve every log and document. Don't delete, correct, or alter anything. Please notify our outside counsel."
"I already did."
Evelyn lowered her voice.
"There's something else."
"Tell me."
"Two directors say they met with Mauro last week. They believe he's bringing in a buyer."
I looked out at the lawn where my grandfather had taught me to ride a bicycle.
He had told me never to confuse a person's confidence with his competence.
Mauro had fooled me with confidence for years.
"Name the buyer," I said.
"Blackridge Capital."
Veronica's face changed.
She knew the name.
Blackridge had tried to acquire us eighteen months ago.
Their offer would have broken the company apart and sold its proprietary systems to three competitors.
I had refused.
Their managing partner, Adrian Kessler, had sent me a handwritten note promising I would regret it.
"You kept that note?" Veronica asked.
"Of course."
"Good."
My phone vibrated.
A photograph arrived from Jamie.
Mauro stood beside a roaring fireplace in the Colorado resort, smiling with a champagne glass in hand.
The caption read: YOU CAN'T STOP WHAT'S ALREADY SIGNED.
I enlarged the photograph.
Behind Mauro, reflected in a brass mirror, stood Adrian Kessler.
The man who wanted my company was on vacation with my husband.
May you like
He was not there to ski.
