Chapter 6: The Name She Finally Said
Garrett called me at seven forty-five the following morning.
I was at my kitchen table with coffee, still in the clothes I had changed into after midnight.
I hadn't slept.
Not because I was troubled — because I was waiting.
There is a particular kind of alertness that comes after a long plan finally moves, and it doesn't release easily.
"Sylvia Crane," Garrett said.
"Derek's sister."
I set down my cup.
"His sister."
"Half-sister.
Different mother.
She's been kept very quiet — she doesn't appear in any of his professional biography or public filings.
She lives in Portland.
She runs a small property management company." He paused.
"Or she did.
Three of the vendor payments were routed through a subsidiary of that company.
The subsidiary was created eleven months ago."
"He built her into the structure," I said.
"It looks that way.
She received approximately ninety thousand dollars across six transactions." Another pause.
"She called him four times last night after the event.
He didn't answer any of them."
I thought about that.
A woman in Portland watching her phone, waiting for a call that didn't come, knowing something had gone wrong.
"Does she know about the investigation?"
"She will by end of day.
Our attorneys are coordinating with the SEC this morning.
Formal notification goes out this afternoon."
I stood up and walked to the window.
The street outside was ordinary — a neighbor walking a dog, a delivery truck idling at the corner.
"Garrett," I said.
"When you file, make sure the documentation is complete on the shell account registered to Vanessa.
She cooperated last night and she's coming in this morning.
I want that noted."
"Already flagged," he said.
"Ms.
Price provided three hours of recorded statement starting at nine.
She had documentation of her own — text messages from Derek explaining the arrangement.
Her attorney believes she has a credible unknowing-participant defense."
"Good." I meant it.
Vanessa had made choices I wouldn't have made.
But Derek had chosen her carefully — chosen someone who would trust him, who had reasons to look away, who could be useful and then expendable.
That was its own kind of cruelty.
"One more thing," Garrett said.
"Derek's attorney contacted us at six this morning.
He's offering full cooperation in exchange for a reduced charge recommendation."
"What's he offering?"
"The offshore account.
Full disclosure.
Routing numbers, transaction history, the name of the intermediary he used." Garrett's voice was neutral.
"There's apparently an additional two hundred and sixty thousand dollars we hadn't located yet."
I was quiet for a moment.
"Tell our attorneys to listen to the full offer before responding," I said.
"But make clear that cooperation doesn't remove the civil claim.
Aurelia's employees lost eighteen months of stability because of what he did.
That debt doesn't disappear because he's frightened."
"Understood."
"And Garrett—"
"Yes?"
"Thank you.
For six weeks of very careful work."
A brief pause.
"Ms.
Bennett.
It was the most interesting six weeks of my career."
I almost smiled.
I ended the call and stood at the window a moment longer.
Then I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in three days.
It rang twice.
"Claire." Malcolm's voice was alert.
He had clearly been awake for hours.
"I just got off with legal.
Have you spoken to Garrett?"
"Just now."
"The sister complicates things."
"It expands things," I said.
"That's different." I watched the delivery truck pull away from the corner.
"Malcolm, I want to call a full staff meeting at Aurelia this week.
Not the board.
Everyone.
I want to speak to the employees directly."
A pause.
"What do you want to say to them?"
"The truth," I said.
"That the company is solvent.
That their jobs are safe.
That what happened wasn't their fault and they deserve to know it." I paused.
"And that the people who put them through eighteen months of manufactured crisis will answer for it."
Malcolm was quiet for a moment.
"Thursday," he said.
"I'll arrange it."
"Thank you."
I hung up.
Outside, the neighbor with the dog had stopped at the corner.
The dog was investigating something in the grass with complete, unhurried focus.
My phone lit up on the table.
May you like
An unknown number.
Portland area code.
