Chapter 5 - The Hostile Takeover
By six o’clock that evening, the story had exploded across the national news.
TECH MOGUL CANCELS SOCIETY WEDDING AT THE ALTAR. ACCUSATIONS OF FRAUD AND MURDER ROCK STERLING ENTERPRISES.
Reporters were camped outside the wrought-iron gates of my estate like vultures. But inside my study, a team of three federal agents, two state police detectives, and David were huddled around the mahogany table, reviewing the documents extracted from safety deposit box 414.
The safety deposit box had contained pure dynamite.
Sarah’s private investigator hadn't just found Diana's real identity; he had uncovered encrypted email chains between Diana Miller and Julian Croft detailing the exact remote hack used to override the electronic braking system on Sarah’s Lexus SUV. It also contained wire transfers totaling four million dollars from an offshore account in Grand Cayman directly to Diana’s alias accounts.
"It’s an ironclad case," Special Agent Marcus Vance (no relation to Diana’s fake name) said, tapping the printed bank statements. "We have enough to arrest Julian Croft on federal conspiracy and wire fraud charges tonight. But the murder charge requires physical corroboration of the telemetry hack."
"Where is Diana now?" I asked.
"She posted bail twenty minutes ago," David said, looking up from his phone with a furious scowl. "A high-powered defense firm sent an associate to the precinct with half a million dollars in cash. Julian Croft funded her release. She walked right out the back door."
"Where did she go?"
"Our surveillance team followed her," Agent Vance replied. "She didn't run to the airport. She went straight to Croft Capital's corporate headquarters downtown. Michael, they've called an emergency meeting of the Sterling Enterprises board of directors for eight o'clock tonight."
I froze. "The board? On a Saturday night?"
"Croft holds twenty-five percent of the voting shares," David explained, checking his corporate inbox. "And with the rumors flying across Wall Street, the independent board members are terrified. Croft just issued an emergency proxy notice claiming that you are mentally compromised, emotionally unstable, and unfit to serve as CEO. He’s invoking Clause Nine of the corporate charter to vote you out and install himself as interim chairman before markets open in Tokyo."
"He thinks if he takes control of the company, he can bury the telemetry records stored on our internal servers," I realized instantly.
"Exactly," Vance said. "If Croft takes the chairmanship tonight, he gains executive control over the IT infrastructure. He can wipe the backup servers that hold the vehicle diagnostic data from three years ago."
I stood up, stripped off my tuxedo jacket, and unbuttoned my collar.
"David, get the car."
"Michael, you shouldn't go down there," David warned. "Croft has private security, and the board members are spooked. It’s going to be an ambush."
"That company has my late wife's name on the building," I said, my eyes cold and sharp. "My wife died protecting it. My daughter was terrorized in her own home today because of it. I'm not hiding in this house."
I walked back down the hall to Emma’s room. She was sitting in bed, holding her stuffed rabbit, coloring in a picture book with Mrs. Gable watching over her. The fear in her face had eased, replaced by the innocent calm that only a five-year-old could manage when she felt safe.
I walked over, leaned down, and kissed the top of her head.
"Daddy has to go take care of some business, Emma. I'll be back before you wake up tomorrow morning."
"Are you going to stop the bad people?" she asked softly.
May you like
"Yes, baby," I smiled, holding her small hand. "I'm going to finish what Mommy started."
Ten minutes later, David and I were in the back of a black SUV, flanked by two unmarked federal vehicles, speeding down the highway toward the glittering glass towers of downtown Boston.
