Chapter 3 - VICTORIA’S VERSION
Anthony refused to accuse Victoria.
That surprised me.
“You believe Cole Mercer?”
“No.”
“Then why not confront her?”
“Because accusations are cheap.”
“You nearly died.”
“I’m aware.”
“You say that a lot.”
“People remind me.”
He had called from Chicago.
Against my better judgment, I flew back there the next day with investigators because my father’s original documents were now relevant to the safety inquiry.
Not as crew.
Passenger.
I hated it.
When the aircraft door closed, my hands shook.
Megan noticed.
She was working the flight.
“You want off?”
I considered.
“No.”
“Good.”
Not because brave.
Because I needed to teach my body that one emergency did not make every cabin dangerous.
Anthony sent no security.
I had asked him not to.
At O’Hare, Marcus met me anyway.
“Technically, I’m driving Anthony.”
“Who happens to be in your car?”
“Possibly.”
He was.
Of course.
Anthony sat in the rear wearing a dark suit.
No hospital gown.
No visible weakness except a faint bruise from the IV.
“You look disappointed.”
“I specifically said no security.”
“I’m not security.”
“You own the security.”
“Technical distinction.”
I got into the other side.
“Your sister?”
“Meeting tonight.”
“With you?”
“With the full board.”
“Before Monday?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re letting me come?”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Then why am I here?”
“Because Victoria asked to speak with you.”
That was worse.
The Bennett family offices occupied twenty-three floors of a glass tower along the river.
Victoria met me alone.
No lawyers.
No Anthony.
She looked older in person.
More tired.
“Ms. Carter.”
“Victoria.”
Her eyebrows moved slightly.
Good.
No ceremony.
She gestured toward a sofa.
I stayed standing.
“Did you tamper with Anthony’s medication?”
Straight question.
Her eyes widened.
“No.”
“Did you have the case the night before?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I replaced an expired prescription.”
“Did Anthony know?”
“Yes.”
We checked later.
True.
“Did you know Thomas Carter?”
Victoria’s face changed.
There.
“Yes.”
“My father.”
“I know.”
“Did you help fire him?”
She sat.
For the first time, control slipped.
“I was twenty-eight.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I didn’t fire him.”
“Did you know?”
“I knew he was disciplined.”
“For?”
“Refusing a sign-off.”
“Did you investigate?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“My father told me it was handled.”
I laughed once.
“Then you became a lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“Convenient profession for not asking questions.”
She accepted the hit.
“I deserve that.”
“What do you want from me?”
Victoria looked toward the windows.
“My brother thinks I’m trying to steal his company.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Would you become CEO if he were declared incapacitated?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want that?”
Silence.
Then:
“I want the sale completed.”
“Why?”
“Because Bennett Aeromedical is bleeding cash.”
“Because of the safety issues?”
She looked at me.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“Anthony thinks we can fix it.”
“You don’t?”
“I think the entire division is contaminated.”
“Old maintenance culture.”
“Bad vendor relationships.”
“Union litigation.”
“Regulatory exposure.”
She became more animated.
“We sell under disclosure, fund remediation, and separate risk from the rest of Bennett Meridian.”
“Does the buyer know the full history?”
Another silence.
There.
“No.”
“So Anthony is right.”
“No.”
Victoria stood.
“Anthony wants to dump sixteen years of internal material onto regulators before counsel finishes review.”
“My father died with his reputation destroyed because your family needed more review.”
“That was wrong.”
“Then why repeat it?”
Her face tightened.
“Because forty thousand people work for Bennett Meridian.”
“If this entire company collapses, they pay too.”
I understood her argument.
That made it harder.
She wasn’t saying:
Money matters.
She was saying:
Truth has blast radius.
Still.
“You don’t get to decide other people deserve less truth because you’re afraid of consequences.”
Victoria stared.
“You sound like Anthony.”
“No.”
I picked up my bag.
“I sound like Thomas Carter’s daughter.”
At the door she said:
“I did not hurt him.”
“Anthony?”
“No.”
Her voice broke unexpectedly.
“I have protected that man since he was five.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
She stared.
“What?”
“People keep using the word protect when they mean decide for.”
I left.
That evening, Anthony called.
“She spoke to you.”
“Yes.”
“Did you accuse her of attempted murder?”
“Basically.”
“And?”
“She was offended.”
“Promising.”
I almost laughed.
Then he said:
“She’s telling the truth about one thing.”
“What?”
“She doesn’t want to run the company.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she has refused the role twice.”
“So why activate incapacity?”
“She believes the sale has to happen Monday.”
“Enough to keep you from the vote?”
He went quiet.
Not proof.
Suspicion.
Then Marcus entered wherever Anthony was.
I heard his voice through the phone.
“Tony.”
Anthony’s tone changed.
“What?”
“We found something.”
I waited.
Anthony put me on speaker.
Marcus continued:
“The travel case seal was photographed by hotel security the night before New York.”
“And?”
“After Victoria returned it, seal intact.”
“Then?”
“Cole Mercer moved it from the hotel safe to the vehicle.”
“Still intact.”
“Airport screening?”
“Opened.”
“Routine?”
“No.”
A private-security supervisor requested manual inspection.
Name:
Julian Bennett.
Anthony’s cousin.
I remembered the man standing behind Victoria at the press conference.
Smooth.
Calm.
Almost invisible compared with the siblings.
Marcus continued:
“Julian called airport security personally.”
“He said the case contained temperature-sensitive medication requiring verification.”
Anthony whispered:
“Why would he know what was in my case?”
Nobody answered.
Because apparently he shouldn’t.
Then Marcus said:
“There’s more.”
Always more.
“Julian’s investment fund has a side agreement with the buyer.”
“How much?”
Anthony asked.
“Two hundred eighty million if Aeromedical closes before quarter-end.”
Silence.
There it was.
Victoria wanted the deal for corporate survival.
Julian wanted it because he would personally make almost three hundred million dollars.
Motives had finally begun separating.
Then I asked:
“Does Victoria know?”
Anthony answered quietly.
“I don’t think so.”
May you like
For the first time, the sister who looked like the villain might actually be another person whose fear someone else had learned to use.
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