Chapter 3 - The Annex Jason Never Read
Police arrived shortly after midnight.
Jason’s attorneys arrived first.
They spoke about misunderstandings, marital conflict, and the danger of drawing conclusions from a pool remote anyone could have programmed.
The sedative in my champagne changed the conversation.
So did the livestream.
Tiffany claimed she had not known Malcolm was watching. She said Jason created a private account on her phone and instructed her to stream the party because certain board members wanted proof of my instability.
“Which board members?” the detective asked.
She looked at Malcolm.
He had already left the terrace under the protection of his attorney.
The police could preserve his phone, but they did not yet have enough to arrest him.
Jason remained at the estate while investigators collected evidence. Because he was a legal resident and no formal charges had been filed, removing him required an emergency protective order.
Reed obtained one before sunrise.
At 4:20, Jason stood in the front foyer while security placed two suitcases beside the door.
He looked at the photographs on the wall.
Our wedding.
The opening bell when Carter Dynamics became public.
A quiet morning in Napa when I still believed love meant safety.
“You planned all of this,” he said.
“No. I noticed you planning something and stopped looking away.”
“You hired investigators.”
“After you tried to change the beneficiary on my founder trust.”
His face changed.
Only slightly.
That was the first confirmation I had that he knew the trust existed.
Reed noticed too.
“What do you know about the Carter Continuity Trust?” he asked.
Jason picked up one suitcase.
“Ask her father.”
“My father is dead.”
Jason smiled without warmth.
“So you believe.”
He walked through the door before I could stop him.
The sentence followed me into the cold foyer.
My father, Thomas Carter, died nine years earlier when his small aircraft crashed outside Reno. I identified his watch and signet ring because the remains were badly burned.
He had not founded Carter Dynamics.
I had.
But he provided the first two hundred thousand dollars and introduced me to Martin Reed. Before his death, he created the Continuity Trust to protect my shares if I became unable to manage them.
I knew it existed.
I had never read the complete annex.
Reed said my father insisted the sealed pages remain in the First Continental vault unless one of three events occurred.
My death.
A hostile attempt to remove me.
Or the destruction of my marriage agreement.
Jason had triggered the third condition.
“What is inside the annex?” I asked.
Reed looked uncomfortable.
“I know only part of it.”
“You are the trustee.”
“I am one of two trustees.”
“Who is the other?”
“Your father did not permit me to disclose that without opening the vault.”
For fifteen years, Martin Reed had answered every legal question I asked.
That morning, he sounded like another man explaining why my own protection required my ignorance.
I changed into dry clothes and went to the bank with Marcus and two detectives.
The city was still dark. My hair remained damp against the collar of my black coat. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the pool cover moving above me.
First Continental opened the private vault floor at six.
The Continuity Trust box required Reed’s key, my fingerprint, and a code sent to an offline device stored inside the bank.
A manager brought the device.
The code had already been requested once that night.
At 11:52 p.m.
Eight minutes before Jason shoved me.
“Who requested it?” I asked.
The manager checked the system.
“Mr. Reed.”
Marcus looked at my attorney.
Reed did not move.
“I was at my office preparing the injunction.”
“The request came from your registered token.”
“My token remained inside my desk safe.”
“Who knows the combination?”
“No one.”
The bank’s surveillance system showed a man entering the private elevator using Reed’s credentials.
He wore a hat and medical mask. His height and posture resembled Reed’s.
But Reed was visible on his office security footage at the same time.
Someone had duplicated more than his token.
The man failed to open the trust box because he did not have my fingerprint.
He accessed another box instead.
One registered to Charles Laurent.
Tiffany’s father.
Charles was Carter Dynamics’ first outside investor and an early board member. He died in a boating accident eleven years ago after accusing my father of hiding company debt.
Tiffany rarely spoke about him.
Jason told me she came from a wealthy family that lost everything.
The vault manager opened my box.
The original prenuptial agreement lay inside, bound in dark blue leather. The signature pages were untouched.
Behind it was a sealed envelope marked Continuity Annex.
Reed used a silver blade to open it.
The first page confirmed that all founder shares remained mine.
The second activated an automatic board suspension for any spouse involved in fraud or violence.
The third identified a contingent ownership claim.
Eight percent of Carter Dynamics had been reserved for the lawful heir of Charles Laurent if evidence proved his original shares were obtained through deception.
Tiffany was not merely my husband’s mistress.
She was a potential shareholder worth nearly five hundred million dollars.
Jason had not chosen her only because she was young and beautiful.
Someone had placed the daughter of a dead cofounder beside him.
The final page contained a handwritten instruction from my father.
If Ava’s spouse and Charles Laurent’s heir are brought together, assume the original conspiracy has resumed.
I read the line twice.
“What original conspiracy?”
Reed looked toward the empty Laurent box.
“I believe someone removed the answer eleven years ago.”
The bank manager brought the access log.
Charles Laurent’s box had been opened at 11:58 the previous night.
The man using Reed’s stolen identity removed one object.
May you like
A videotape labeled THOMAS CARTER CONFESSION.
Continue to the next part: Ava discovers Tiffany may hold a hidden claim to Carter Dynamics and someone stole a recording made by Ava’s supposedly dead father.
