Chapter 21 - The Ghost on the Payroll
December brought snow.
It also brought sabotage.
At 4:17 one morning, Eleanor received a call from Thomas.
"Number Five line is dead."
She was dressed before Rafe woke completely.
"I'll drive."
"You have a meeting at nine."
"I'll cancel."
"Rafe."
He looked at her.
She smiled.
"I'm going to work. Not war."
"With our history, those concepts overlap."
At the plant, they found an entire control assembly destroyed.
Someone had poured conductive fluid into the electrical cabinet.
Thomas was furious.
"Only employees can access this level."
Eleanor studied the damage.
"No forced entry."
Marcus reviewed security logs.
One badge had entered at 2:03 a.m.
Greg Higgins.
Impossible.
Higgins was in federal detention.
"Cloned card," Eleanor said.
The system hadn't been upgraded after Victor's attack.
Marcus traced the badge creation records.
A technician named Owen Pike had generated a duplicate six months earlier.
Thomas looked stunned.
"Owen's been here fourteen years."
"Where is he?"
"Didn't show for shift."
They found him that afternoon.
Not hiding.
Dead.
His truck had gone over an embankment outside Hendersonville.
Police initially called it an accident.
Rafe didn't.
Neither did Eleanor.
Marcus searched Owen's financial records.
Someone had deposited fifty thousand dollars into his account.
Two days after Victor's arrest.
"Victor's network is still operating," Eleanor said.
Rafe shook his head.
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"Victor doesn't pay loose ends after he's arrested. He kills them."
Marcus placed another file down.
"Owen's payment came from a Whitmore legacy account."
Eleanor went cold.
"Celeste?"
"No."
The account belonged to someone else.
Arthur Whitmore's younger brother.
Charles.
Eleanor hadn't seen Uncle Charles in eleven years.
He had left the company after a vicious argument with Arthur.
Everyone believed it concerned money.
Marcus had discovered otherwise.
Charles Whitmore had been an early investor in Victor Vance's transportation network.
Before Celeste.
Before Arthur's murder.
Before everything.
Rafe read the file.
"Where is he?"
Marcus looked grim.
"Charlotte."
Eleanor remembered Christmas dinners from childhood.
Uncle Charles telling jokes.
Bringing her model engines.
Teaching her to drive an old tractor.
Her stomach turned.
"Why would he sabotage the plant now?"
Marcus opened one final document.
"Because Blue Ridge wasn't entirely Arthur's invention."
A 1998 patent draft listed two names.
Arthur Whitmore.
Charles Whitmore.
Eleanor stared at it.
Charles believed half the technology belonged to him.
The federal contract had revived an old grievance worth millions.
Rafe touched Eleanor's shoulder.
"Want me to handle this?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
Eleanor closed the file.
Victor had been a monster.
Celeste had been an abuser.
But Charles was blood.
That made nothing easier.
Maybe worse.
She looked toward the damaged production line.
Her father had hidden too many truths while trying to protect her.
Eleanor wouldn't repeat that mistake.
"Call Uncle Charles."
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"And say what?"
May you like
Eleanor's expression hardened.
"Tell him his niece wants to talk."
