Chapter 6 - The Snake in the Boardroom
Arthur walked back to his desk, picked up a single sheet of printed paper from Evelyn's dossier, and held it out for Stella to see.
“Your father wasn't just a mechanic, Stella,” Arthur said, his voice tinged with old sorrow. “Thirty years ago, when Bennett Industries was expanding its commercial freight division, Thomas Carter designed a proprietary hydraulic stabilization system for our heavy freight trailers. He held the local patent. We contracted his shop for the maintenance of our entire Midwestern fleet.”
Stella looked at the document. Her father’s familiar, bold signature sat at the bottom of a faded licensing agreement from 1996.
“Dad never talked much about his corporate contracts,” Stella murmured, her throat tight. “When his shop started losing money seven years ago, he said it was just market competition... that the bigger national logistics chains had squeezed him out.”
“That was a lie he told himself to preserve his dignity,” Arthur said grimly. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by an inferno of rage as he turned his gaze back onto Marcus Vance. “He didn't lose his business to fair market competition. He lost it because someone inside Bennett Industries systematically stole his maintenance contracts, falsified billing reports, and rerouted our regional fleet servicing to a shell company owned by their own brother-in-law.”
The room went dead silent.
Marcus Vance’s knees visibly buckled. He reached out to brace himself against the edge of the mahogany desk, his knuckles turning stark white.
“Marcus,” Evelyn Cross said, her voice sharp as a scalpel. “Did you really believe that because Mr. Bennett stepped back from day-to-day administrative operations during his wife’s illness that no one would audit the Midwestern logistics pipeline?”
“I—I had nothing to do with that!” Marcus cried out, his voice cracking into a shrill panic. “That was a logistics procurement decision made by the regional vendor committee! Everything was approved through proper procurement protocols!”
“The vendor was Apex Freight Services,” Arthur said, slamming a heavy folder onto the desk with a deafening crack. “Apex Freight is registered to a post office box in Gary, Indiana. Its primary shareholder is Bradley Vance—your younger brother. Over the last four years, Bennett Industries paid Apex Freight twelve million dollars for maintenance services that were either completely fabricated or outsourced to third-rate garages at a forty percent markup.”
Stella felt the blood rushing through her ears.
Four years ago. That was the exact year her father’s health had collapsed under the crushing stress of sudden bankruptcy. She remembered nights when her father would sit at the kitchen table with his head buried in his hands, staring at stacks of unpaid vendor invoices, wondering why the long-standing corporate accounts that had sustained their family for decades had suddenly vanished overnight.
Her father hadn't failed. He hadn't been careless.
He had been methodically destroyed by the parasite standing three feet away from her.
“You son of a bitch,” Stella whispered, her fists clenching so hard her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands.
May you like
Marcus turned wildly toward Arthur, tears of fear springing to his eyes. “Arthur, please! It was an operational restructuring! I saved this company seven percent on regional transit overhead! You can’t pin this on me based on old vendor records—my uncle sits on the executive compensation board!”
“Your uncle was briefed at six o’clock this morning,” Arthur replied without a shred of pity. “He signed your termination papers twenty minutes ago to save his own seat. Outside this door, Marcus, two agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Financial Crimes Division and four Chicago police detectives are waiting for you.”
