Then he changed tactics.
“You know your father trusted me.”
Laura’s expression did not soften.
“My father trusted several people.”
“He trusted me with this company.”
“He left the company to me.”
Richard turned.
There it was.
A flash of anger.
Gone almost immediately, but visible.
Daniel had seen the same look from contractors caught billing twice for one job.
Entitlement exposed itself most clearly when someone was reminded of a boundary they believed should not exist.
Richard lowered his voice.
“You became CEO because your father spent thirty years creating something worth inheriting.”
Laura went completely still.
Daniel looked at her.
Richard realized he had gone too far.
He tried to recover.
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“Yes,” Laura said.
“It is.”
The lodge fell silent except for the wind.
Richard’s next words were softer.
“Where is the folder?”
Laura did not answer.
The silence stretched.
Then Daniel understood.
Richard had never been looking around the room randomly.
He had come for the documents.
“You knew about the copies,” Daniel said.
Richard turned toward him.
Daniel continued.
“You knew I printed them.”
Richard laughed once.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Someone accessed my office after I left.”
Laura looked at Daniel.
He had not told her that part.
Daniel explained.
Before leaving the property that afternoon, he had returned to his maintenance office after receiving a call from his daughter’s school.
The metal filing drawer where he kept vendor work orders had been open.
He always locked it.
Nothing obvious was missing.
But the invoices he had copied were no longer aligned in the order he had left them.
At the time, he assumed one of his technicians had searched for a repair log.
Now he was no longer sure.
Richard’s face became unreadable.
Laura stared at him.
“Did you send someone into his office?”
“No.”
“Did you know he had flagged the Martinez invoices?”
“No.”
Daniel spoke quietly.
“Then why did you ask where the folder was?”
Richard looked at Laura.
For the first time, there was no polished answer ready.
He moved toward the door.
“This conversation is finished.”
Laura stepped between him and the exit.
“No.
It isn’t.”
Richard stopped.
She was smaller than he was, wearing borrowed work gloves because her own hands had become numb earlier that evening.
Her hair had fallen loose from the careful style she wore in meetings.
Her designer coat was drying beside the fireplace.
She did not look like the controlled CEO who had left Pinewood Summit.
She looked more dangerous.
Because she was finally paying attention.
“Give me your phone,” she said.
Richard stared at her.
Then, very slowly, he smiled.
“You have no idea how this company actually works.”
Laura’s face did not change.
“Maybe not.”
Richard seemed surprised.
She continued.
“But I’m beginning to understand how you work.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Richard reached for the door.
Daniel moved once, blocking it.
Richard’s voice sharpened.
“Move.”
“The road is closed,” Daniel said.
“I’ll take my chances.”
“That SUV won’t make the grade.”
“That’s my problem.”
“No,” Laura said.
“The missing company money is my problem.”
Richard turned on her.
“You think a few mismatched invoices mean money is missing?”
Daniel pulled the folder from beneath his coat.
Richard’s eyes went directly to it.
Daniel placed it on the table.
