The tone of his voice changed something in the room.
The glass walls seemed colder.
“What happened?” I asked.
“We arrested Jamal Price outside the courthouse holding area. While processing him, he asked for a deal.”
“That was fast.”
“He claims Apex Holdings was not his operation.”
I said nothing.
Agent Mercer continued. “He says he was a broker. A handler. Not the architect.”
I turned slowly toward my desk.
On it sat a framed photo of my company’s first office.
Three desks.
Bad lighting.
Dollar-store coffee maker.
No family pictures.
Never family.
“People under arrest lie,” I said.
“Yes,” Mercer replied. “They do. But sometimes they panic and tell pieces of the truth.”
“What piece did he tell?”
There was a pause.
Not long.
Long enough.
“He said your family’s conservatorship petition was only one part of a larger containment plan.”
My pulse slowed.
That was how my body handled danger.
Everything became quiet.
Precise.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“It means someone wanted you legally discredited before the SEC audit widened.”
“Someone besides Jamal.”
“Yes.”
I walked to my desk and opened my laptop.
“Who?”
“We are not ready to say.”
I gave a short, humorless laugh. “You called me after federal court to tell me there is a larger conspiracy targeting me, but you are not ready to say who is behind it?”
“I called because of what we found at Northern Lake Capital.”
My screen woke.
Aegis security dashboards glowed blue and white.
“What did you find?”
“An encrypted external drive in Jamal’s desk.”
“And?”
“The drive contained forged financial templates, client skim ledgers, shell company records, and a folder labeled Vale.”
My fingers paused over the keyboard.
“Send it to my attorney.”
“We will. But there is something you need to know now.”
I hated the way he said it.
Quiet.
Careful.
Like a doctor before bad news.
“What?”
“The Vale folder did not start six months ago.”
My office seemed to tilt.
“How far back?”
“At least seven years.”
Seven years.
Long before the condo fight.
Long before Brittany’s pregnancy.
Long before Jamal asked to use my bathroom and walked into my home office.
My voice stayed even. “That is impossible. I did not meet Jamal until Brittany brought him to Thanksgiving four years ago.”
“I know.”
Cold spread down my spine.
Agent Mercer lowered his voice.
“Ms. Vale, there are scanned copies of your tax records, old medical documents, early company incorporation papers, and internal Aegis emails on that drive.”
