Chapter 5 - The Signature
Eleanor read the name without blinking.
MICHAEL WHITMORE — CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER.
Emma waited for her to react.
Nothing.
Then Eleanor held out her hand. “Zoom in.”
Grant enlarged the signature.
“That isn’t Michael’s signature,” she said.
“You’re sure?”
“I watched that boy sign birthday cards for fifty years. His M leans right. This one leans left.”
Grant nodded. “Could be a digital authorization token.”
“Which means someone may have access to executive credentials.”
Emma looked between them. “So this goes higher than Darren.”
“Much higher,” Eleanor said.
Her phone rang.
MICHAEL flashed on the screen.
She answered on speaker.
“Mom, where are you?” a man demanded. “Corporate says you locked down a store.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because one of our managers fired a cashier for buying milk for an elderly woman and then set fire to his office.”
A pause.
“Please tell me the elderly woman wasn’t you.”
“It was.”
Michael exhaled. “Of course it was.”
Despite everything, Emma almost laughed.
Eleanor did not.
“Michael, your credentials are attached to false donation transfers.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Four hundred thousand dollars from this store alone.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I know.”
Grant leaned closer. “Mr. Whitmore, don’t access the corporate network from your laptop. Use your phone only. We may have an internal breach.”
Michael’s tone changed. “Understood. I’m on my way to Boston.”
“Bring no one from regional operations,” Eleanor said.
Another pause.
“Mom, Regional Vice President Alan Pierce is with me right now.”
Eleanor and Grant exchanged a look.
Alan Pierce.
Emma knew the name. His photo hung in the break room beside a quote about integrity.
Eleanor spoke slowly. “Do not tell him what we found.”
Too late.
A second voice came through the phone, smooth and friendly.
“Eleanor? This is Alan. I heard there’s been some excitement at Tremont Street.”
Eleanor’s face became unreadable.
“Yes, Alan.”
“I can have a crisis team there in thirty minutes.”
“No need.”
“I insist. Store 184 is under my region.”
“That’s exactly why I’m saying no.”
The line went quiet.
Then Alan chuckled.
“Still sharp as ever.”
The call ended.
Grant immediately said, “He knows.”
Eleanor nodded. “And if he’s involved, Mateo is in more danger than we thought.”
Emma’s phone buzzed in her pocket.
Unknown number.
She opened the message.
It contained a photograph of Mateo sitting in a metal chair, his hands tied behind his back.
May you like
Under the photo were six words.
STOP DIGGING OR HE DOESN’T COME HOME.
