Chapter 2 - What Her Name Was Worth
Naomi Price listened without interrupting.
Her office occupied the second floor of a converted Baltimore rowhouse. There was no marble reception desk, no skyline view, and no photograph of her shaking hands with Cole.
That was why Rebecca had chosen her.
When the story ended, Naomi asked, ""Do you feel safe returning home?""
Rebecca thought of Cole saying be careful.
""I don't know.""
""Then we plan around that uncertainty.""
They discussed somewhere to stay, access to personal funds, and which documents Rebecca already possessed. Naomi explained the difference between preserving evidence and taking information she had no authority to access.
Rebecca appreciated instructions she could follow.
Before leaving, she called the hotel herself. Saying she needed a room for one felt strangely difficult. She had booked countless trips for two, always remembering Cole's preferred floor and his complaints about elevators. This time she asked for a quiet room, then added breakfast because she knew she would otherwise forget. The reservation clerk said yes.
Feelings were harder.
""I'm also a shareholder,"" she said.
Naomi looked up.
Rebecca placed an old agreement on the desk.
When Northline bought its first warehouse, Rebecca's mother had loaned them the proceeds from selling her house. Rebecca also contributed her savings and worked without a salary for eighteen months.
The signed agreement gave her forty percent of the company.
Cole had sixty.
""Has this ever been amended?"" Naomi asked.
""Not that I know of.""
""We'll verify that.""
Next came the trust agreement establishing the Family Fund as a separate employee assistance trust.
Rebecca and Cole were trustees alongside Henry Bell, a retired accountant who reviewed its annual statements.
Large withdrawals required two approvals.
""Henry had surgery this summer,"" Rebecca said. ""Ellis offered to organize the monthly packets while he recovered.""
Naomi turned a page.
""And you relied on those packets?""
""Yes.""
Admitting it hurt more than describing the bedroom.
""Then the review includes your oversight, too,"" Naomi said.
Rebecca nodded.
She had come for help, not a flattering version of events.
By noon, Naomi had contacted independent forensic accountant June Abbott and arranged a confidential review. She also reached Henry, who sounded appalled and immediately retained separate counsel.
Rebecca drove to Doris's apartment afterward.
The building smelled of boiled cabbage and laundry detergent. Doris opened the door wearing a cardigan over two sweaters.
""The heat's being temperamental,"" she said.
Rebecca glanced at the thermostat.
It was set to fifty-six.
Doris saw her looking.
""Electric costs what it costs.""
Rebecca could picture the penthouse lamp, the gray sheets, Tara's cream slip.
Forty-eight thousand dollars labeled emergency housing assistance.
She had to stand very still.
Doris's son arrived carrying groceries.
Daniel Pike was forty-three, broad through the shoulders, with a mechanic's hands and a tired expression. Rebecca remembered him from company picnics before he opened his own repair shop.
""Mom said you were coming.""
There was no warmth in his voice.
She did not blame him.
""I should have caught this sooner,"" she said.
He placed the bags down.
""Yes.""
Doris began to protest.
Rebecca shook her head.
""He's right.""
That changed something in Daniel's expression.
She explained that the missing payments were being investigated and that emergency assistance could be arranged through an independent local organization while the trust's position was clarified.
""I won't promise you a date I can't guarantee,"" she said.
Daniel folded his arms.
""Good. We've had enough promises.""
Before leaving, Rebecca paid Doris's overdue utility bill with her personal card, with no condition attached.
Outside, Daniel followed her down the steps.
""Your husband know you're here?""
""Probably.""
""Then be smarter than coming alone next time.""
She looked at him.
""Is that a warning?""
""It's a request. My mother likes you.""
Her phone buzzed before she reached her car.
Cole had sent a photograph of divorce papers on their kitchen table.
His message contained no apology.
Sign tonight. We keep this private. You keep the house.
Rebecca forwarded it to Naomi.
Then another message arrived.
You know enough about Northline to understand what happens when people start talking.
She stood beneath the pale afternoon sky and read it twice.
May you like
Then she made a second call.
This time, she asked how to report a threat.
