CHAPTER 6: THE BOARD MEMBER WHO VANISHED
The man in the gray federal jacket introduced himself as Special Agent Nolan Reeves.
He placed the evidence box on the prosecution table and looked directly at Curtis.
“Your board archive was recovered from a private storage unit registered under a false name.”
Curtis muttered, “I don’t know anything about that.”
Agent Reeves opened the box.
The first item inside was a black ledger.
Old-fashioned.
Handwritten.
My father used to keep one exactly like it for personal notes he did not trust to computers.
Dana stepped closer.
“Where was this found?”
“In a climate-controlled unit outside Arlington,” Reeves said. “Alongside procurement drives, draft contracts, and a set of private recordings made by Thomas Wright before his death.”
My breath caught.
Dad.
Elaine whispered, “That’s impossible.”
Reeves looked at her.
“Mrs. Wright, you seem to use that word often when evidence survives.”
The judge allowed the first recording.
Dad’s voice filled the courtroom.
Weak from cancer.
Still unmistakably him.
“If this archive is opened, then Iris was right not to trust them.”
My throat tightened.
The recording continued.
“Curtis is greedy. Elaine is frightened of losing status. But neither of them is clever enough to create Nightfall. Someone on Titan’s board gave them access.”
The board.
The word moved through me like ice.
Titan had five directors when Dad died. Two retired immediately after the funeral. One moved overseas. One supported Curtis. Only one had remained publicly neutral.
Dana looked toward the gallery.
“Your Honor, we request that former Titan board member Malcolm Price be brought in.”
The back row shifted.
A gray-haired man in a dark suit stood halfway.
Then sat down again.
Too late.
Everyone had seen him.
Malcolm Price had been my father’s oldest business partner. He brought casseroles after Dad died. He hugged my mother at the funeral. He told me, “Your father wanted peace between his children.”
Peace.
Another word powerful people used when they meant surrender.
Agent Reeves nodded to the marshals.
Malcolm tried to leave.
They stopped him at the aisle.
Curtis looked shocked.
Elaine looked furious.
That told me everything.
Curtis had not known the whole machine.
Elaine had known enough.
Malcolm had built it.
Reeves removed a contract from the box.
“Mr. Price authorized vendor access under emergency procurement language. He also approved destruction of internal conflict reports after the Kandar incident.”
Carney’s face darkened.
“Those reports named the leak.”
Malcolm said nothing.
Dana played another recording.
Dad’s voice returned.
“If Malcolm is in the courtroom, ask him why he visited Elaine two nights before the shell accounts opened.”
The courtroom turned toward Malcolm.
His composure cracked.
Elaine whispered, “You said this was handled.”
Malcolm closed his eyes.
There it was.
Handled.
Not denied.
Handled.
The judge leaned forward.
“Mr. Price, do you wish to obtain counsel?”
Malcolm did not answer.
Agent Reeves placed one final item on the table.
A photograph.
Dad in his office, three months before he died.
Beside him stood General Carney.
Between them sat a small sealed envelope.
On it, in Dad’s handwriting:
FOR IRIS, IF THEY TRY TO ERASE HER.
I felt my heart stop.
Dana opened the envelope with gloved hands.
Inside was one page.
May you like
And the first line read:
“My daughter was never the threat. She was the witness.”
