Chapter 7 - THE PRICE OF GREEN VIEW
Harold Stein surrendered inside the unfinished lobby of Green View at 4:12 in the morning.
He looked twenty years older than he had at the board meeting.
Richard watched the interrogation from behind glass.
Harold asked for immunity.
Police refused to promise anything.
So he settled for leverage.
“I didn't kill Evelyn Adams.”
Detective Rodriguez sat across from him.
“You helped.”
Harold looked toward the mirrored glass.
He seemed to know Richard was there.
“I arranged surveillance.”
“Why?”
“Daniel said she was stealing company records.”
“And you believed him?”
“No.”
Harold laughed bitterly.
“I believed money.”
At least he was honest.
He explained.
Daniel Crowe had been diverting money long before Green View.
Evelyn discovered it accidentally while helping reconcile old subcontractor payments.
She contacted Constance because Constance handled several suspect vendors.
They began collecting records.
Daniel discovered them.
He arranged to meet Evelyn in Denver during a conference.
Harold hired a man to frighten her.
Not kill.
That was his claim.
But the confrontation happened on a hotel balcony.
Evelyn fell.
The hired man called Daniel.
Daniel paid him to disappear.
Richard had to leave the room.
He walked into the corridor.
Bent forward.
Hands on his knees.
For four years he had believed his sister died because she leaned too far over a railing.
He had blamed her champagne.
The hotel.
Fate.
Never Daniel.
Never himself.
Rodriguez came out.
“Richard.”
He stood.
“Where's the man?”
“The intermediary Harold hired died two years ago.”
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
“Will Harold testify?”
“If prosecutors reach an agreement.”
Richard nodded.
“And Constance?”
Harold admitted visiting her at the shelter.
He wanted the notebook.
Constance refused.
Daniel then used a shelter employee to access her room.
Investigators believed someone placed sedatives into medication Constance was already taking for a heart condition.
Not necessarily intending to kill her.
Again, everyone claimed it wasn't intended.
Richard was beginning to hate that phrase.
A child didn't care whether adults intended disaster.
Disaster was still what she woke up inside.
The Green View financial scandal exploded publicly within forty-eight hours.
News vans lined the street outside Adams & Associates.
Headlines accused executives of embezzlement, falsified occupancy reports, and connections to two suspicious deaths.
The company's share value plunged.
Two lenders froze credit.
Three investors pulled out.
Richard's board demanded that he step down temporarily.
He refused.
Then changed his mind the following morning.
Not because the board was right.
Because Isabella was.
“You look terrible,” she told him over cereal.
“Thank you.”
“You never sleep.”
“I sleep.”
“You fell asleep in the chair with a bottle in your hand.”
“That was strategic rest.”
“You drooled.”
Richard looked offended.
Isabella smiled.
He hadn't seen her do that enough.
Richard realized he could fight to keep the title or fight to save the company honestly.
He could not do both while caring for three children and participating in an investigation.
So he appointed an independent interim CEO.
Ordered a forensic audit.
Waived executive confidentiality where legally possible.
And publicly accepted responsibility for failing to detect corruption under his leadership.
Reporters asked whether that was an admission of guilt.
Richard answered:
“No. It's an admission of responsibility.”
The phrase spread everywhere.
Some investors abandoned him.
Others stayed.
Then Richard made a larger decision.
Green View would change.
Instead of clearing vulnerable families out of surrounding structures, Adams & Associates would purchase and renovate two buildings into transitional housing.
A portion of Green View itself would become mixed-income housing.
The board hated it.
Analysts called it financially inefficient.
Richard did it anyway.
“You're losing money,” Isabella told him after overhearing a phone call.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Are we going to be poor?”
Richard looked around his penthouse.
“No.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
That was apparently the entire financial analysis she required.
The permanent placement hearing approached.
Social services had identified a distant maternal aunt in Indiana.
Legally, blood relatives received serious consideration.
Richard told himself that was appropriate.
Then he met her.
Teresa Bell was Constance's half-sister.
Forty-eight.
Married.
Two teenagers.
A stable house outside Indianapolis.
She cried when she saw Isabella.
“I didn't know Constance had died.”
Isabella did not hug her.
Teresa looked at the twins.
“They look like her.”
That made Isabella soften slightly.
Richard hated himself for feeling threatened.
Joanne noticed.
“Don't.”
“What?”
“Turn this into winning.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were.”
He sighed.
“Fine.”
Teresa spent two supervised afternoons with the children.
She was kind.
Patient.
Normal.
Everything Richard thought Isabella deserved.
That made things worse.
One night Isabella asked:
“Would you be mad if the judge sends us with Aunt Teresa?”
Richard's throat tightened.
“No.”
“You'd be sad.”
“Yes.”
“Same.”
“No.”
He sat beside her.
“People can be sad without being angry at you.”
She thought about that.
“Would we still see you?”
“If you want.”
“Michael likes you.”
“Michael eats paper.”
“He still likes you.”
“And Ryan?”
“He likes your watch.”
“Finally, someone with standards.”
She laughed.
Then became serious.
“I don't remember Aunt Teresa.”
“You were little when she last saw you.”
“Mom never talked about her.”
“Families get complicated.”
“Do you have family?”
Richard looked at the framed photograph of Evelyn.
“Not much.”
“Maybe that's why you're weird.”
“Probably.”
At the hearing, Teresa surprised everyone.
She stood when called.
“Your Honor, I came because I thought blood made me the obvious choice.”
Richard lowered his eyes.
Teresa continued.
“But Isabella doesn't know me.”
Isabella looked up.
“The babies don't know me.”
Teresa wiped tears.
“They know Mr. Adams.”
Richard stared.
“He showed up when nobody else did.”
Judge Turner asked:
“Are you withdrawing your petition?”
Teresa shook her head.
“I'm asking for something different.”
She wanted legal recognition as extended family.
Visitation.
A relationship.
But she supported Richard's guardianship.
Isabella started crying.
Richard did too, though he would later deny it.
Judge Turner granted Richard permanent guardianship while adoption eligibility would be reviewed after a statutory waiting period.
Outside, Isabella looked at Teresa.
“Can I call you Aunt Teresa?”
Teresa smiled.
“I'd like that.”
Then Isabella turned toward Richard.
“What do I call you?”
He nearly stopped breathing.
“You've been calling me Richard.”
“That's weird now.”
He forced a smile.
“You can call me whatever you want.”
She thought.
“Okay.”
Then she took his hand.
No new name.
Not yet.
That was fine.
That evening, they returned home.
Michael crawled directly toward an electrical cord.
Ryan tried to eat a napkin.
Richard wondered whether guardianship forms included return policies.
Then a courier arrived.
A package.
No return address.
Inside was Constance's missing employment badge.
Evelyn's bracelet.
And a small digital recorder.
Police played it.
Daniel's voice.
Clear.
Angry.
You should have stayed out of Green View, Evelyn.
Evelyn:
Richard will find out.
Daniel:
Richard sees what I let him see.
Then a third voice.
Harold.
Daniel, enough.
Daniel replied:
After tomorrow, it won't matter.
Richard went cold.
The recording had been made the night before Evelyn's death.
But the final ten seconds contained something nobody expected.
A woman's voice entered the room.
Daniel, the car is ready.
Richard knew that voice too.
He had heard it hundreds of times.
His former executive assistant.
Laura Bennett.
A woman who had worked directly outside his office for fourteen years.
A woman still employed by Adams & Associates.
And that morning, Laura had volunteered to supervise the company archive while investigators reviewed old files.
Richard grabbed his phone.
“Lock down the archive.”
Too late.
Security called thirty seconds later.
Laura was gone.
So were six boxes of original Green View records.
And building cameras showed she had not left alone.
Daniel Crowe had somehow been released on emergency bond three hours earlier.
May you like
They were together.
---
