Chapter 5 - The Badge With My Name
The badge was counterfeit.
A good counterfeit.
But still counterfeit.
Celeste had apparently planned for the possibility that cameras would record her.
Using my identity gave her something more valuable than access.
It gave her a future defense.
Claire did it.
That was the moment I stopped thinking of Celeste merely as Adrian's mistress.
She was playing a larger game.
The board's investigators moved quickly.
Her corporate accounts were frozen.
Building security was notified.
Her attorney sent a letter insisting she had done nothing wrong.
Then Celeste disappeared.
Not internationally.
Not dramatically.
She simply stopped answering.
Meanwhile, Northstar's financial trail became uglier.
The $2.4 million in consulting fees had funded deposits on Sonoma land, architectural retainers, and investor presentations.
Some presentations referred to the project as AURELIA.
The language came almost word-for-word from Dad's Haven notebook.
“Can we stop the project?” I asked Margaret.
“Probably.”
“Probably isn't enough.”
“We need to establish ownership of the underlying intellectual property.”
“It belonged to Dad.”
“Then find his original records.”
That sent me back into the townhouse attic.
Dad saved everything.
Receipts from 1987.
Old business cards.
Handwritten contracts.
Three hours into searching, I found a locked leather case.
Inside were Haven sketches, financial models, and a handwritten notebook.
On the final page, Dad had written:
HAVEN IS FOR CLAIRE.
Not the company.
Me.
Below it was a reference to an intellectual-property assignment.
Document number.
Date.
Law firm.
Margaret found it within hours.
My father had transferred the Haven concept, trademarks, and development materials into the Whitmore Family Trust before his death.
Northstar hadn't stolen from Vale Meridian.
It had stolen directly from my trust.
That changed everything.
We filed for an injunction.
The court froze Northstar's development.
Then something unexpected happened.
Martin Keene asked for immunity from termination claims in exchange for cooperation.
I laughed when Margaret told me.
“He wants protection?”
“He says Celeste manipulated him.”
“Men discover manipulation very quickly when consequences arrive.”
Still, we agreed to hear him.
Martin arrived with two attorneys.
His story was ugly.
Celeste had approached him fourteen months earlier with a plan to develop Haven privately.
She claimed Adrian wanted the project separated from Vale Meridian because board bureaucracy would slow it down.
“Did Adrian tell you that?” I asked.
Martin looked down.
“No.”
“So you moved millions based on Celeste's word?”
“She showed me messages.”
“From Adrian?”
“I believed they were.”
“Did you verify them?”
“No.”
I leaned back.
“Why?”
Martin's face reddened.
Finally:
“I was promised equity.”
There it was.
Not manipulation.
Greed.
“How much?”
“Eight percent.”
“And Celeste?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Who owned the rest?”
Martin hesitated.
“That was never disclosed.”
Margaret leaned forward.
“Who did Celeste say owned it?”
“She called the person the principal investor.”
“Name?”
“I never received one.”
Martin then gave us access to encrypted messages.
Most were between him and Celeste.
But one thread referenced someone only as A.V.
Adrian Vale.
The initials were devastating.
Except something felt wrong.
Adrian never signed messages A.V.
Not once in ten years.
He signed AV.
No periods.
Tiny detail.
Maybe meaningless.
Maybe everything.
We sent the messages for forensic analysis.
That evening, Adrian called.
I nearly ignored him.
Then answered.
“What?”
“I heard about Martin.”
“From whom?”
“I still have friends, Claire.”
“Congratulations.”
“He's lying.”
“About what?”
“Not everything. But about believing Celeste represented me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Martin hated Haven.”
I paused.
“What?”
“He was the executive who convinced me to kill the project after your father died.”
I went still.
“I thought you made that decision.”
“I did. Based on Martin's projections.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I should have.”
“You should have done many things.”
“I know.”
I hated how easily he said it now.
“Send me everything you have.”
“I already sent it to Margaret.”
Before hanging up, he said:
“Claire?”
“What?”
“I found Celeste.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“She contacted me.”
“Why?”
“She wants money.”
“For what?”
“Silence.”
I gripped the phone.
“About the affair?”
“No.”
May you like
His next words changed the investigation.
“She says she knows who actually owns Northstar.”
