He went with them without resistance, hands not even cuffed, though the sight of him walking out through those doors still landed hard in Clare’s chest. She watched the patrol car pull away, feeling the ground shift beneath her all over again. Whatever calm the morning had given her disappeared entirely by lunchtime. The second blow landed before Clare even had time to process the first.
An email arrived at four that afternoon, forwarded from Gerald Finch, the company’s longtime board chairman, a man who had known Clare’s father for thirty years and had always been kind to her, if occasionally distant. Emergency board meeting called for tomorrow morning. The subject line read, “Serious financial concerns require immediate review.” Attached were documents Clare had never seen before. Bank transfer records doctored to show funds moving from company accounts into an account bearing her name. Numbers that didn’t match anything in her actual records, dates that lined up suspiciously well with the newspaper article from days earlier.
Clare called Norman Katz immediately. “These are fabricated,” she said, scrolling through the pages with shaking hands. “I’ve never seen these transfers. I never authorized anything like this.” “I believe you,” Norman said. “But belief doesn’t stop an emergency board vote, Clare. Not on its own. We need real evidence to counter this, and we need it fast.” “Walter’s in police custody. He’s the one who understands all of this better than either of us.” “Then we get him out,” Norman said. “First thing tomorrow morning before that board meeting starts if we possibly can.”
One day now, and the walls were closing faster than either of them had expected. The board meeting happened anyway, one hour earlier than scheduled, before Norman could arrange anything. Clare sat at the same long table her father had once sat at, watching six board members review documents she knew were false, feeling every polite, uncomfortable glance land on her like a small blow. Gerald Finch looked genuinely pained as he spoke.
“Clare, I’ve known you since you were a girl. I don’t want to believe any of this, but given the severity of what’s been presented, and given the anniversary event tonight in front of the entire town, the board feels we have no choice but to suspend your operational authority pending a full investigation.” “These documents are forged,” Clare said, keeping her voice as steady as she could manage. “I can prove that given time.” “How much time?” one of the younger board members asked, not unkindly but pointedly.
“I don’t know exactly,” Clare admitted. “Hours maybe.” “We don’t have hours to spare, Clare,” Gerald said gently. “The dinner starts at seven tonight. Three hundred people expect answers.” “So the solution is to punish me before you’ve even confirmed the accusation is real.” “The solution,” Gerald said, “is to protect this company while the truth gets sorted out properly. I know that feels unfair. I promise you, it isn’t meant as a judgment on your character.”