Chapter 5 - THE DEAD MAN’S SIGNATURE
Dante apologized the next morning.
I almost didn’t recognize it as an apology because powerful men apparently had a genetic inability to use more words than necessary.
“I was wrong.”
I looked up from Arthur’s documents.
“That’s it?”
“What would you prefer?”
“A marching band.”
“I can arrange one.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
He continued.
“I should have asked before assigning protection.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t do it again.”
I studied his face.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you think I’m making a bad decision?”
“I reserve the right to say it’s a bad decision.”
“That’s fair.”
“And to look annoyed.”
“You already do that professionally.”
Something warm passed through his eyes.
For a few seconds, the freight audit disappeared.
So did Jared.
Evelyn.
Northline.
There was only a man across the table who had somehow learned that protecting me and controlling me were not the same thing.
Then I looked down at Luca Varga’s forged signature.
Reality returned.
We had bigger problems.
I placed three documents side by side.
“This release is fake.”
Dante leaned over.
“You’re sure?”
“Completely.”
“How?”
“Not the signature.”
I pointed at the footer.
“Document revision number.”
He waited.
“Northline updated the interchange form eleven months ago. This version didn’t exist when your brother was alive.”
Dante stared at the paper.
“So whoever forged it created it recently.”
“Yes.”
“And inserted Luca’s signature electronically.”
“Probably copied from an older legitimate form.”
Gabriel entered carrying a laptop.
“I found the legitimate form.”
He displayed a shipment from three years earlier.
Same signature.
Same angle.
Same tiny ink break beneath the letter V.
Pixel for pixel.
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“They copied my dead brother’s name.”
It was the first time I heard genuine anger in his voice.
Not the controlled irritation he had shown Jared.
Something deeper.
Personal.
“What was he like?” I asked.
Dante looked surprised.
“Luca?”
“Yes.”
He remained silent for a moment.
“Better than me.”
“That’s vague.”
“He believed the company could become legitimate before I did.”
I waited.
Dante walked toward the window.
“Our father built Varga Freight as a way to move things that were not always written accurately on manifests.”
There it was.
No euphemism large enough to hide what he meant.
“And you?”
“I inherited more than trucks.”
I folded my arms.
“I’m not going to pretend I don’t know who people say you are.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Are the stories true?”
“Some.”
“That is a terrible answer.”
“It’s the honest one.”
I looked at the forged document.
“Did Luca want out?”
“He wanted our legitimate companies separated completely from everything else. After he died, I finished what he started.”
“Everything legal now?”
His hesitation lasted half a second too long.
“Everything involving Varga Freight is.”
I met his eyes.
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
The answer bothered me.
It was supposed to.
Dante did not try to soften it.
Instead he said, “You deserve to understand what kind of man you’re standing beside.”
That answer bothered me differently.
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
Evelyn.
I stared at the screen.
Dante saw the name.
“Answer.”
“Absolutely not.”
“She doesn’t know you opened the drive.”
“She knows Jared failed.”
“She may tell us what she believes you have.”
Gabriel was already connecting a recorder.
I hated all of this.
But auditors live on information.
I answered.
“Hello?”
“Khloe.”
Evelyn sounded relieved.
Genuinely relieved.
That was the worst part.
“Oh, thank God.”
I said nothing.
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“With Dante Varga?”
My eyes went to him.
“How do you know that?”
“Jared told security what happened at the restaurant. Khloe, you have no idea what kind of man Varga is.”
“I’m learning.”
“Please listen to me. The company isn’t your enemy.”
“Then why am I suspended?”
“Legal made that decision.”
“You’re chief operating officer.”
“I can’t override counsel during an active data investigation.”
It was such a polished lie I almost admired it.
Evelyn softened her voice.
“You’ve been under enormous stress. Jared resurfacing, the protection order, now these freight irregularities—”
“What freight irregularities?”
Silence.
Tiny.
But there.
I had never told her what I found.
Officially my suspension notice mentioned only proprietary documents.
Evelyn recovered.
“Arthur told me you were auditing Varga loads.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
Another pause.
“Before retirement.”
I looked at Gabriel.
He shook his head.
Arthur’s recovered phone logs showed no calls to Evelyn for six weeks.
I leaned back.
“What do you want, Evelyn?”
“I want to help you.”
“How?”
“Come meet me.”
“No.”
“Then at least return what belongs to Northline.”
There it was.
“What?”
“The drive Arthur gave you.”
I looked directly at Dante.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Khloe.”
The warmth disappeared.
“He stole confidential company information.”
“Arthur gave me a retirement gift.”
“Inside that gift is a red storage device.”
My skin prickled.
“How do you know what color it is?”
Silence.
I continued.
“You searched my desk.”
“Who told you that?”
“You just did.”
Her breathing changed.
Then her tone hardened completely.
“You have no idea what you’re involving yourself in.”
“Then explain.”
“Those files are incomplete.”
“Which files?”
“Stop playing games.”
“I’m an auditor. Games have worse documentation.”
Dante almost smiled.
Evelyn did not.
“You think Varga is protecting you?”
“He protected me from Jared.”
“Jared was trying to help.”
I nearly laughed.
“He chased me through the rain.”
“He panicked.”
“You gave him my location.”
Silence.
Then:
“Who told you?”
My heart broke a little.
Not because I had doubted the evidence.
Because some part of me had still wanted her to deny it.
“You did,” I whispered.
I ended the call.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Gabriel returned to the red drive.
“There’s one encrypted folder we haven’t opened.”
Name:
FINAL CLEAN.
Password hint:
THE LAST LOAD IS ALWAYS LIGHTEST.
Arthur again.
I entered the tare weight of the final phantom container.
The folder opened.
Inside was a scheduled freight movement.
Tomorrow night.
Northline Terminal Four.
Container HRFU-771204.
Contents listed as hurricane relief medical supplies.
Declared value: $19.7 million.
Actual gate status:
EMPTY.
Attached was a note Arthur had written.
FINAL TRANSFER. ORIGINAL MANIFESTS WILL BE MOVED OFFSITE. AFTER THIS LOAD, RECORDS CAN BE DESTROYED.
Dante read it twice.
“They’re moving the physical evidence.”
“Or destroying it.”
Gabriel opened another attachment.
Security authorization.
Approved by Evelyn Hart.
A second approval appeared underneath.
CALVIN PIKE — DIRECTOR OF CORPORATE SECURITY.
I knew Calvin.
He had been the man Evelyn personally assigned to “protect” me after Jared first appeared outside Northline.
My stomach turned.
Dante noticed.
“What?”
“Calvin knew my schedule.”
Gabriel’s expression hardened.
“He also supervises building cameras.”
“The cameras that malfunctioned when Arthur was attacked.”
Nobody needed to finish the sentence.
Then another file appeared.
A scanned handwritten note.
Arthur’s writing.
KHLOE — IF YOU FOUND THIS, THE MONEY ISN’T THE REAL REASON. CHECK THE INSURANCE BENEFICIARY ON LOAD 771204.
I pulled the policy.
The insured cargo belonged to Horizon Relief Foundation.
The primary beneficiary in the event of total loss was Northline.
The secondary beneficiary was a private investment company.
MERRITT HOLDINGS LLC.
Gabriel searched it.
His face changed.
“What?”
He turned the screen.
Merritt Holdings was controlled through two trusts.
The final beneficial owner:
Evelyn Hart.
If the empty container disappeared, burned, sank, or was reported stolen, nearly twenty million dollars would flow toward a company she owned.
Dante stared at the terminal schedule.
“So tomorrow night she isn’t moving evidence.”
I understood.
“She’s planning to destroy it.”
And according to the route map, Container 771204 was scheduled to pass directly through a Varga-owned transfer yard before it disappeared.
Evelyn wasn’t only stealing money.
May you like
She was preparing to make Dante Varga take the fall.
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