Chapter 3 - WHILE I WAS UNDER THE KNIFE
“The signature came from your home computer.”
Those were the first words Ruth Delgado said when I woke up.
I was lying in the intensive care unit.
My head felt heavy. There was a dressing near my temple, and every sound seemed painfully sharp.
For a moment, I didn't remember where I was.
Then I saw Ruth sitting beside my bed.
She was wearing yesterday's gray jacket, her hair pulled into a loose knot.
“You're alive,” she said softly.
I tried to smile.
“Did they take my company?”
“Not yet.”
That answer frightened me more than I wanted to admit.
Ruth leaned forward.
“The surgery went well. Your doctor says the pressure has been relieved, but you'll need close monitoring and a careful recovery.”
I swallowed.
“What happened with the proxy?”
“Your corporate secretary, Helen Foster, received my objection before the scheduled meeting. She refused to record the disputed proxy as a valid vote.”
I closed my eyes.
Helen had worked for Hale Construction for thirty-one years.
My grandfather had hired her when she was twenty-three.
She was the only person in our office who still insisted on keeping paper copies of every important decision.
“Thank God for Helen.”
“Don't celebrate too soon,” Ruth replied.
I opened my eyes.
“Keith and your mother held the meeting anyway. They didn't approve the sale, but they authorized preliminary negotiations with an outside investor.”
“What investor?”
“Southbank Development.”
The name meant nothing to me.
Ruth reached into her bag and pulled out a thin folder.
“Leah Monroe, your forensic accountant, identified several unusual payments associated with the proposed transaction.”
I had hired Leah after finding three duplicate equipment invoices in August.
At first, I'd believed somebody in purchasing was careless.
Then the duplicates kept appearing.
Ruth opened the folder.
“Hale Construction has paid more than four hundred thousand dollars to a company called Hearthstone Equipment Services.”
I frowned.
“I know the name.”
“According to the invoices, they supplied cranes, excavators, and temporary supports.”
“We already own most of that equipment.”
“Exactly.”
Ruth showed me the dates.
One invoice listed a crane rental during a week when our largest project had been shut down because of flooding.
Another charged us for six excavators at a site that only had room for two.
A third listed delivery fees to an address I didn't recognize.
“How much?” I asked.
“We've confirmed four hundred sixty-eight thousand dollars in questionable payments so far.”
I stared at the ceiling.
That money represented years of overtime, health insurance, and retirement contributions for people who had trusted my grandfather.
“Who approved them?”
“Keith authorized the payments.”
My heart sank.
I knew Keith had always resented my majority ownership.
He was two years younger than me, loud where I was quiet, impatient where I was careful.
He believed working fourteen-hour days entitled him to more control than the person reviewing the accounts.
But stealing company money?
I hadn't wanted to believe he could do that.
Ruth hesitated.
“There's something else.”
She showed me the electronic signing record.
My supposed proxy had been completed through a device registered to our home.
The confirmation email had then been opened from Adam's tablet.
“We have the records preserved,” she said. “We still need the signing service's full authentication history before drawing conclusions about who actually applied the signature.”
I felt sick.
“Adam downloaded it.”
“Yes.”
“He told me he was going golfing.”
Ruth didn't respond.
She didn't have to.
A nurse entered to check my blood pressure.
When she finished, she said, “Your husband has called twice.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did he want?”
“He asked when you would be discharged. He also asked whether you were alert enough to discuss legal paperwork.”
Ruth's expression hardened.
The nurse looked uncomfortable.
“I told him medical information would only be shared according to your instructions.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
After she left, Ruth asked whether I wanted Adam removed from my authorized visitor list.
I looked at my wedding ring lying inside the clear belongings bag.
“Yes.”
The word hurt.
But it also felt like the first honest decision I'd made in days.
That afternoon, Dr. Bennett examined me again.
He told me the next several days would matter.
There could still be complications. I needed rest, medication, and careful follow-up.
“Absolutely no stressful business meetings,” he warned.
I almost laughed.
Unfortunately, my family had other plans.
At four o'clock, Helen sent Ruth a copy of the company's emergency financial summary.
Leah had compared the outstanding invoices with our actual equipment inventory.
And something had caught her attention.
Ruth read the message twice.
Then she handed me the page.
Near the bottom was a delivery authorization for Hearthstone Equipment Services.
The person listed as the receiving representative was not Keith.
It was Adam.
My husband had repeatedly told me he knew nothing about the company's purchasing arrangements.
Yet there was his name, printed beneath the words:
AUTHORIZED SITE REPRESENTATIVE — ADAM HALE.
And beside it was a handwritten note.
Release equipment only after Nora approves the transfer.
I looked at Ruth.
“What transfer?”
She turned the page.
Attached to the rental authorization was a reference number for a property transaction involving our main construction yard.
The same yard my grandfather had built from an abandoned lumber depot forty years earlier.
May you like
At the bottom of the page was a proposed closing date.
Monday. Three days away.
