Chapter 3 - SEVENTEEN RED DOTS
The attorney waiting in Meredith’s living room looked like a man accustomed to being welcomed.
Nathan Crowley was senior general counsel for Lawson Technologies.
Sixty-two.
Harvard Law.
Perfect charcoal suit.
A reputation for making catastrophic problems disappear before breakfast.
Meredith had met him at Christmas parties.
He had once given Lucas a toy train.
Now he sat on her cream-colored sofa holding a leather folder containing a lie.
“I understand your hesitation,” Nathan said.
Meredith stood across from him.
“No, you don’t.”
“This is intended to protect everyone involved.”
“My son died eight hours ago.”
His expression softened professionally.
“I am deeply sorry.”
“Then leave.”
Nathan glanced at the unsigned statement.
“Mrs. Lawson—”
The front door opened.
William Sterling entered without removing his coat.
Nathan stood.
Their eyes met.
And for the first time that morning, Nathan Crowley looked uncomfortable.
“William.”
“Nathan.”
“I didn’t know you were advising Meredith.”
“I wasn’t.”
William closed the door.
“Now I am.”
Nathan smiled faintly.
“This isn’t a criminal matter.”
William walked toward the coffee table.
“I didn’t say it was.”
He picked up the statement.
Read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
His face showed nothing.
“Who drafted this?”
Nathan hesitated.
“My office.”
“When?”
“Early this morning.”
William looked at him.
“The document metadata says otherwise?”
Nathan’s expression barely moved.
Meredith noticed.
William had not checked metadata.
He had guessed.
Nathan had answered the question anyway.
“I’m not discussing internal work product.”
William folded the document once.
“Then we’re finished.”
Nathan reached for it.
William did not release it.
“That document belongs to the company.”
“It was presented to my daughter for signature.”
“Correct.”
“Then she retains a copy.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
William released the paper only after Meredith photographed every page.
Nathan put it back into the folder.
“This could become ugly.”
William smiled without warmth.
“For whom?”
Nathan left twelve minutes later.
Meredith locked the door behind him.
Then she leaned her forehead against it.
“I can’t believe Garrett did this.”
William looked at her.
“I can.”
She turned.
“That fast?”
“People show you who they are when disaster removes the time they normally use to rehearse.”
Meredith sank into a chair.
William sat beside her.
For a moment he stopped being a prosecutor again.
He was simply her father.
“You don’t have to fight today.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Dad—”
“You have to bury your son.”
Her eyes filled.
He reached across the table.
“I will handle the noise.”
She gripped his hand.
“What if he destroys everything?”
William’s expression changed.
“He’ll try.”
Garrett did.
At 9:13 that morning, Garrett entered the forty-eighth floor of Lawson Technologies and called an emergency meeting.
His chief of staff, Derek Collins, was already waiting.
So was Nathan.
Garrett had changed clothes.
No lipstick.
No tuxedo.
Dark suit.
White shirt.
Red eyes.
The appearance of a devastated father carefully reconstructed around the posture of a CEO.
“Where’s the statement?”
Nathan placed the folder on the table.
“She refused.”
Garrett swore.
“Because of William?”
“Primarily.”
Garrett walked to the window overlooking Manhattan.
“This cannot become a story about seventeen calls.”
Derek shifted.
“Sir, with respect, your son died.”
Garrett turned sharply.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“No.”
“Then don’t speak to me like I’m discussing quarterly earnings.”
Silence.
Garrett rubbed his forehead.
“What does the hotel have?”
Nathan frowned.
“Meaning?”
“Security footage.”
Derek and Nathan exchanged a glance.
Garrett saw it.
“Don’t.”
Nathan lowered his voice.
“You’re asking the wrong questions.”
“I’m asking what will leak.”
“The hotel has lobby cameras. Elevator cameras. Transaction records.”
Garrett stared at him.
“Get ahead of it.”
Nathan sat back.
“I will not instruct anyone to destroy evidence.”
“I didn’t say destroy.”
“No. You said it in the language wealthy men use when they want someone else to hear the dangerous part.”
Garrett’s eyes hardened.
Nathan closed his folder.
“Your biggest problem is not the affair.”
“My son is dead.”
“Yes.”
Nathan’s voice sharpened.
“And if you turn his death into an obstruction case because you’re afraid of embarrassment, I will resign before lunch.”
Garrett said nothing.
Derek’s phone buzzed.
He looked at it.
Then looked up.
“What?”
“It’s Vanessa.”
Garrett stiffened.
“What does she want?”
“She sent me something.”
Derek turned the screen.
A text.
I need to speak to someone. I’m not lying for him.
Garrett snatched the phone.
Nathan slowly stood.
“What happened in that hotel room?”
Garrett’s silence answered him.
Meanwhile, William sat in Dr. Matthews’s office at Saint Catherine Children’s Hospital.
Meredith had given written permission for him to review Lucas’s records.
Dr. Matthews looked exhausted.
“There’s something you should know.”
William leaned forward.
“What?”
“We knew Garrett wasn’t responding.”
“I know.”
“A staff social worker tried his office.”
William’s eyes narrowed.
“When?”
“10:38.”
“And?”
“His assistant answered.”
William took out his notebook.
“What did she say?”
“She said she would contact him immediately.”
“Name?”
“Emily Chen.”
William wrote it down.
“Did anyone document that?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Matthews turned his monitor.
A clinical note appeared.
10:38 p.m. Father unreachable by mother. Contact made with executive office. Assistant informed father requested urgently due critical condition of minor child. Assistant confirms message will be relayed.
William stared at the entry.
His pulse remained steady.
His anger did not.
“Can this be altered?”
“Not without leaving an audit trail.”
William nodded.
“Good.”
At 11:04, William called Emily Chen.
She answered cautiously.
“Mr. Sterling.”
“You know who I am?”
“I do.”
“Did you speak to Saint Catherine last night?”
Silence.
William let it stretch.
“Yes.”
“Did you contact Garrett?”
Another silence.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Text. Then I called.”
“Did he answer?”
“Yes.”
William’s pen stopped.
Across the kitchen table, Helen watched his face change.
“What did you tell him?”
Emily began crying.
“I said Lucas was in critical condition and he needed to call Meredith immediately.”
“And what did he say?”
“He said he was aware Lucas was sick.”
William gripped the pen harder.
“What else?”
Emily inhaled shakily.
“He told me he was in the middle of something important.”
William closed his eyes.
“Exact words, Emily.”
She hesitated.
Then said them.
“He said, ‘Meredith panics whenever Lucas wheezes. I’ll deal with it when I’m done.’”
William opened his eyes.
“Do you still have the text?”
“Yes.”
“Do not delete it.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not forward it to me yet. Preserve the original device. Screenshot it. Back it up. And Emily?”
“Yes?”
“Has anyone from Lawson Technologies contacted you about last night?”
Her silence was enough.
“Who?”
“Mr. Collins asked me to come in early.”
“And?”
“He told me legal wanted to review all communications involving Mr. Lawson.”
William’s face went cold.
“Did you give him your phone?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Emily’s answer came softly.
“Because Lucas used to draw pictures for my desk.”
William could not speak for several seconds.
“He drew me a dinosaur last month,” she continued. “He said it was a lawyer dinosaur because it had a briefcase.”
Despite everything, William’s eyes burned.
“That sounds like him.”
“Mr. Sterling?”
“Yes?”
“I heard the voicemail.”
William straightened.
“What voicemail?”
“Garrett played it accidentally last night in the hotel lobby. Vanessa told me this morning.”
William’s mind began connecting pieces.
“You’ve spoken to Vanessa?”
“She called me because she’s scared.”
“Of Garrett?”
“Of what he’s going to make everyone do.”
William stood.
“Give Vanessa my number.”
Twenty minutes later, the phone rang.
“Mr. Sterling?”
William recognized the fear immediately.
“This is William.”
“This is Vanessa Hale.”
“I know.”
She began crying before she finished the next sentence.
“I need to tell you what happened.”
William looked toward the framed photograph of Lucas on Meredith’s shelf.
The little boy was wearing a plastic astronaut helmet and missing one front tooth.
“Then tell me the truth.”
Vanessa breathed in.
“Garrett saw the messages.”
William went still.
“How many?”
“Enough.”
“Be precise.”
“At least four.”
“Did he read them?”
“He read the previews.”
“What did they say?”
Vanessa whispered.
“One said Lucas was in the hospital.”
William’s jaw tightened.
“Another?”
“His heart was unstable.”
“And what did Garrett do?”
Vanessa began sobbing.
“He silenced the phone.”
William closed his eyes.
Seventeen calls had already been cruel.
Now the cruelty had intent.
Then Vanessa said something else.
“There’s more.”
William opened his eyes.
“What?”
“I recorded part of the evening.”
“Why?”
“Because Garrett had promised me a promotion and stock package. I thought he might deny it later.”
William stared at the wall.
“Does the recording include the calls?”
“It includes him talking about them.”
“What did he say?”
Vanessa’s answer came barely above a whisper.
“He said Meredith always overreacted when Lucas got sick.”
William did not move.
“And then?”
“He said, ‘If it were really an emergency, the hospital would call me.’”
William looked down at his notebook.
10:38.
The hospital had called.
11:04.
Emily had personally told him.
The excuse Garrett had already begun constructing had just collapsed.
William closed the notebook.
“Vanessa, preserve that recording.”
“What are you going to do?”
William looked at Lucas’s photograph.
“What I spent thirty years doing.”
May you like
“And what is that?”
“Give a liar enough room to believe he’s winning.”
