Chapter 11: What Morning Brought
The federal warrant was executed at six forty-five the following morning.
Grace called while Alessandro and I were sitting in the kitchen of his downtown apartment, both of us on our second cup of coffee, neither of us having slept more than two hours.
"They have him," she said.
"His attorneys are already filing for a continuance, which tells you they know how bad the evidence is.
The SEC referral goes in this afternoon.
The board has been notified and they've voted to suspend his authority pending investigation."
"The recordings?" Alessandro asked.
"Authenticated and submitted.
Your father's account records are being cross-referenced with the shell company filings as we speak." A pause.
"Alessandro.
This is going to be a long process.
But the outcome is not in doubt."
"Thank you, Grace."
"Thank Miss Hargrove's father," she said.
"I'll be in touch."
The call ended.
Alessandro set his phone on the table.
Outside the kitchen window, Chicago was grey and cold and beginning its ordinary morning, traffic sounds rising from the street below.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"Now Marcus faces a federal fraud investigation, a board removal, and a civil suit from the organization for the diverted funds." He wrapped both hands around his mug.
"It will take time.
But he will not walk away from it."
"And my father?"
Alessandro looked at me steadily.
"I'm going to request a formal review of the accident investigation.
With the recordings establishing Marcus's motive, there's enough to reopen it." He paused.
"I can't promise what they'll find.
But I can promise it will be looked at properly this time."
I looked down at my coffee.
My father had spent the last two years of his life building something he never got to use.
He had handed it to Carver, and Carver had held it, and I had stumbled into a charity gala in a borrowed dress and somehow ended up here, in a warm kitchen in the early morning, with the man whose child I was carrying sitting across from me telling me that my father's work had finally landed where it was supposed to.
"I'm sorry I lied to you," I said.
"About my name.
About why I was there."
"You were protecting yourself."
"It still wasn't fair to you."
He was quiet for a moment.
"No," he said.
"It wasn't." He looked at me directly.
"But I understand why.
And I'd rather know the truth now than a comfortable version of it later."
Liam appeared in the kitchen doorway in yesterday's clothes, hair unsettled, holding his phone.
"Carver just messaged me," he said.
"He saw the news alert about Marcus.
He says, and I'm quoting, 'Daniel would have been pleased.
Tell Elizabeth she did well.'"
I pressed my hand flat against the table.
"Tell him thank you," I said.
"Tell him he kept his promise."
Liam typed the message and sent it.
Then he looked at the two of us sitting across from each other at the kitchen table, coffee mugs between us, the long night finally ending.
"Right," he said.
"I'm going to make eggs.
Nobody argue with me."
Alessandro looked at him.
May you like
Then, for the first time since I had knocked on his door in Winnetka, he smiled.
"I wouldn't dare," he said.
