Chapter 7 - The Flash Drives
The flash drives contained years of other people’s secrets.
Not only Preston’s.
Renata had collected documents from everyone she worked around.
Tax returns.
Photographs.
Audio recordings.
Passwords written on scraps of paper.
Copies of credit-card statements.
Private family arguments recorded from hallways.
Detective Ruiz described it as “an archive of leverage.”
Preston called it something simpler.
A weapon.
Renata had spent years appearing invisible inside wealthy homes.
She learned what people said when they believed staff did not matter.
She learned who cheated.
Who drank.
Who lied to accountants.
Who feared spouses.
Who hid money.
And she kept pieces.
“Why?” Preston asked Ruiz.
“Insurance, maybe.”
“Against what?”
“People. Employers. Partners. Anyone.”
One folder was labeled GRAHAM.
It contained messages proving he paid Renata to spy on Preston.
Another folder was labeled PRESTON.
His was larger.
Photographs of the trust binder.
Board notes.
Bank correspondence.
A medical record from his emergency surgery.
And dozens of recordings made inside his home.
Preston felt violated.
Then investigators found a folder labeled W.
W contained fewer files.
But the material was more alarming.
A series of scanned letters involving Warren Hale, Preston’s late father.
Several were dated more than eight years earlier.
The correspondence concerned a quiet internal investigation at Hale Architectural Supply.
Missing inventory.
False vendor invoices.
Kickbacks.
Preston read the names.
One appeared repeatedly.
Caleb Voss.
The company’s current chief financial officer.
Preston’s oldest professional ally.
The man sitting beside him in Friday’s board meeting.
Preston stared at Ruiz.
“Caleb?”
“We’re not accusing him of anything.”
“My father investigated him.”
“Apparently.”
“Why is he still CFO?”
“That is a question for your company records.”
Preston remembered.
Eight years earlier, Caleb had not been CFO.
He managed regional procurement.
Warren had promoted him two years later.
Why would his father promote someone he suspected?
Perhaps the investigation cleared him.
Or perhaps Preston was missing context.
Ruiz pointed toward another document.
A handwritten note from Warren:
C.V. knows Graham is vulnerable. Keep brothers separated from vendor issue.
Preston read it twice.
“What does that mean?”
“We don’t know.”
Another note:
Renata saw ledger copy?
Preston went cold.
“Dad knew Renata?”
“She apparently had contact with your family earlier than you believed.”
Preston remembered Graham saying Renata had worked occasionally through his housekeeper.
Maybe that had been the beginning.
Friday’s shareholder meeting was postponed by agreement of the board.
The attempted distraction had succeeded in that narrow sense.
But now nobody cared about Graham’s removal petition.
Company counsel opened an internal investigation.
Caleb Voss called Preston immediately.
“I heard detectives are asking about old procurement records.”
Preston kept his voice neutral.
“They are.”
“Why?”
“I’m not discussing an active investigation.”
Caleb laughed awkwardly.
“Preston, I’ve worked beside you for fifteen years.”
“Then you understand why I’m being careful.”
A pause.
“Is Graham blaming me?”
Preston’s eyebrows lifted.
“I didn’t mention Graham.”
Silence.
Caleb recovered quickly.
“Everyone knows he’s been fighting you.”
“Do they?”
“Yes.”
Preston looked at the scanned notes on his desk.
“Did my father investigate you eight years ago?”
A long pause.
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me.”
Caleb sighed.
“There was an inventory issue.”
“Were you investigated?”
“Half the procurement department was.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because nothing came of it.”
“Who was responsible?”
“A vendor.”
“Name?”
Another pause.
“Preston, this is ancient history.”
“Name.”
Caleb’s voice hardened.
“Stonebridge Distribution.”
Preston searched his memory.
The company no longer existed.
“Who owned it?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You were procurement manager.”
“It was eight years ago.”
Preston looked at Ruiz, who was listening with permission.
“Did Graham have any connection to Stonebridge?”
Silence.
That silence was different.
Caleb lowered his voice.
“Do not do this over the phone.”
Preston’s pulse quickened.
“Do what?”
“You don’t understand what your father covered up.”
Then the call ended.
Preston stared at the screen.
Ruiz said, “That sounded promising.”
“It sounded like a threat.”
“Or fear.”
Preston looked at Warren’s note again.
C.V. knows Graham is vulnerable.
Keep brothers separated from vendor issue.
The company fight had been presented as simple sibling resentment.
But their father had hidden something before he died.
Something involving Graham.
Something Caleb knew.
And somehow, Renata had kept evidence of it for years.
Preston’s phone vibrated.
A text from Caleb.
Meet me alone.
Then another.
If police see Warren’s original ledger, Graham is finished.
Preston showed Ruiz.
May you like
She smiled without humor.
“You’re definitely not meeting him alone.”
