“Sure thing, and we’ll take Rob’s F-250 for the day.”
“We’ll take his truck?” This sounds like the least sure part of the plan. Rob and his Ford are more inseparable than Clint and his Tacoma, and that’s saying a lot.
“I’m going to ask him to head over and pick up the Range Rover. He’ll love being decoy man. I just need to sell him on the danger. If he thinks he might be able to break a tail, he’ll be all in.”
I chuckle. Good to find some humor in all this darkness. “Are you going to ask him to try to find the tracker on both cars?”
“Even more fun for him.” Clint stares out the windshield as if all these logistics are the most important things to be talking about, but I can see the pain in the etched grooves across his forehead. His home is not safe. His family is on the run. And his brother, who robbed his mother of comfort in her dying days, is back in his life.
57
MONDAY
My heels click to the beat of “Eye of the Tiger.” The lyrics remarkably appropriate as I stride through the hall of Garman Straub early Monday morning. There’s no way I’m walking away from the thrill of this fight. We’ve gotten almost enough to ensure both a criminal conviction and a ban from the industry. Almost. If I can harness the tiger, we might get it all. We ended up staying at the cabin over the weekend. Reid was so excited to show me the pond, we didn’t have the heart to leave until last night when we checked into an Embassy Suites my mom reserved for us. This morning, I woke up ready.
I stride into the C-suite wing. As my Louboutins hit the plush carpet of the hall leading to Phil’s office, silence shrouds my steps. A panoramic view of a bright and sunny sky stretching over the city fills the floor-to-ceiling windows.
In the waiting area outside Phil’s office, Terrence sits in one of the nutmeg-brown club chairs, his ankle crossed over his knee. Heglances up from his phone. His eyes widen and a flicker of surprise at my sudden appearance crosses his small neat features, but a ready smile plumps his cheeks.
“Meredith, good morning. Have a seat?” He indicates the other leather chair and then goes back to poking at his phone.
“Waiting for Phil?” I ask, trying to restart the internal humming that sustained me on my march from the elevator. All I hear is static.
“A few clarifications ahead of the board meeting. You know how it is.” He shrugs. “Well, maybe not. This is your second meeting with the fund trustees?”
“Third,” I say, swallowing but not fidgeting. How long do I have before Phil opens his door and all this hits the street?
“I hope we get a chance to chat after the board meeting. I’ve taken a look at the new funds you’re proposing, and I’m looking forward to working with you on them.” Terrence speaks more to his phone than to me.
“I appreciate that, but I need to take into account what’s best for my family. That’s why I’m in early.” I glance at the door. “Recently I’ve had to consider resigning from my position and focusing my energy at home.”
Terrence slowly makes eye contact. “Meredith, I’m speechless. Why?”
“As you know, this has been a rough week. Not only the ugly business with Betsey, but my daughter has been trolled online and our home threatened.” I say more than I intend, and I force a swallow before I ramble. When is the door going to open?
“How terrible. I’ve read about these things happening to teens. So sorry to hear your family got caught up in it. Must be scary and unsettling.”
“You understand. Yes, terrifying.” We had a long talk with Erika last night. Clint and I tried to find comfort in her desire to makethings right with the tutoring business and talk directly to the teachers whose tests were compromised. She’s home from school again today.
“I, well...” He straightens as if a load’s been lifted from his shoulders. “We’ll be sorry to lose you, Meredith. Your innovation has been a spark to our mutual fund legacy. A good run. I hope you catch this predator soon.” He looks back down at his phone.
I sit forward. “Oh, they’ve already caught him.”
The creases between his eyes grow deeper. “What a relief for you. Some unhinged teen?”
I frown and nod my head. “That was who the police identified.”
He raises his phone and shakes it. “I tell you, these devices—the bane of our existence.” He smiles with all his teeth. “I am sorry to see you go, but you must excuse me, I’ve got—”
I stand. “We figured that the online harassment and vandalism at the house were part of an overall campaign to distract me from the data that Betsey found.”
Terrence looks curiously at me.
“The heat needed to be turned up. When Betsey showed up at my house and then I brought in the data and started asking for the securities lending agreement, we got too close. The statements run through your department—in fact you specifically.” I see Clint’s face and the faces of our children urging me to take back the power. “Don’t you find that odd? And then they come out cleansed with—”
“Meredith.” Terrence stands, puffing out his scrawny chest. “You’re sounding paranoid. I do not cleanse reports. If there are any alarming reports, they’re the client data reports you’ve been receiving from Meymack. That’s what I am here to discuss with Phil. We’ve been quite concerned—”
“Oh, you mean data you collected to frame me. Yes, let’s talk about the data you assured Hardwin was fake.” I’m spitballing here,but I assume Terrence is the origin of the data being called fake. Perhaps he thought if he could discredit Betsey and distract me with Erika’s troubles, he could clean this all up without it going nuclear. Regardless, I’m certain he’d have found a way to get rid of me too. Perhaps, in this, he’ll end up succeeding.
