Chapter 4 - The Trap
Nevaeh didn't go home.
She went to Bellamy's.
Gregory nearly dropped a menu when he saw her.
“You're not allowed back here.”
“I'm a customer.”
“You hate the food.”
“I hate the management.”
“Nevaeh.”
She sat at the bar.
“Coffee.”
Gregory sighed.
Then poured it himself.
“Why are you here?”
“Thinking.”
“People usually do that at libraries.”
“They close earlier.”
It wasn't entirely true.
Nevaeh had come because this was where the whole thing started.
When she was overwhelmed, she returned to origins.
Her mother had taught her that too.
If a problem gets too big, baby, find the first small thing that went wrong.
So Nevaeh went backward.
Who knew about the Central Hospitality review?
Leandro.
Camille.
Daniel Roth.
Several procurement managers.
Who knew she had discovered suspicious vendors?
Camille.
Possibly Daniel.
And anyone watching her requests.
Who had motive?
Too many people.
Who had access?
Fewer.
She took out a notebook.
Gregory glanced at it.
“You in trouble?”
“Yes.”
“Perry trouble?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Coffee's free.”
“Why?”
“You were right about me.”
Nevaeh looked up.
Gregory wiped the bar.
“That night.”
She said nothing.
“I should've told Stella to leave.”
“Yes.”
“I was scared.”
“I know.”
“Doesn't excuse it.”
“No.”
He nodded.
Strangely, that was enough.
Nevaeh returned to the notebook.
Her login had been used at 3:17 a.m.
From where?
Camille had only shown her the user ID.
Not the device.
Nevaeh called.
Camille answered immediately.
“I thought you might.”
“Source terminal.”
Silence.
“Nevaeh—”
“Where did the login originate?”
“I can't discuss the investigation.”
“You can tell me whether it was my laptop.”
“It wasn't.”
Her heartbeat changed.
“What terminal?”
Camille hesitated.
“Executive conference level.”
Nevaeh closed her eyes.
That floor required badge access after hours.
“Who entered the building?”
“Security is reviewing.”
“Don't tell me names.”
“I wasn't going to.”
“Tell me something else. Does the executive level use separate network authentication?”
“Yes.”
“So someone needed both my credentials and physical access.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
She hung up.
Gregory slid a fresh cup toward her.
“You look happier.”
“Someone made a mistake.”
At Perry Continental, Leandro wasn't happy.
Daniel Roth sat across from him.
“You need to terminate her.”
“No.”
“Confidential acquisition information reached a journalist from her credentials.”
“Yes.”
“And you're protecting her because?”
“I'm investigating.”
Daniel's jaw tightened.
“If this were anyone else—”
“It would be the same.”
They both knew that wasn't entirely true.
Daniel leaned forward.
“She's been here three months.”
“And?”
“I've served this company twenty-three years.”
“Then you know I don't fire people without evidence.”
Daniel sat back.
“I warned you about giving an outsider unrestricted access.”
“You warned me because she challenged your hotel software.”
“That cost us nearly a million dollars.”
“Keeping it would have cost more.”
Daniel's face hardened.
“You trust her.”
Leandro thought of the badge on his desk.
“I trust facts.”
Daniel smiled without warmth.
“Your father used to say the same thing.”
“My father also believed fax machines were permanent infrastructure.”
Daniel rose.
“You're making a mistake.”
“Possible.”
After he left, Leandro called security.
“Badge logs.”
Camille delivered them twenty minutes later.
At 2:48 a.m., one executive badge entered the building.
Daniel Roth.
Leandro stared at the record.
“Too easy.”
Camille agreed.
“If Daniel wanted to frame her, he wouldn't use his own badge.”
“Unless he knew we'd think exactly that.”
“Or his badge was cloned.”
“Possible.”
Camille folded her arms.
“There's another problem.”
“What?”
“Stella entered the building at 11:16 p.m.”
Leandro slowly looked up.
“She doesn't have executive access.”
“She used your family authorization.”
He swore quietly.
“Exit?”
“11:42.”
“Three hours before the login.”
“Yes.”
“Camera?”
“Lobby has her. Elevators have her. Executive corridor feed was offline for maintenance.”
Leandro laughed once.
No humor.
“Convenient.”
Camille watched him.
“You need to ask her.”
“I will.”
Stella answered from a spa.
“Were you at headquarters Thursday night?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I left a bracelet.”
“At headquarters?”
“In your office.”
“You haven't been in my office for two weeks.”
Silence.
Then Stella sighed.
“Fine. I wanted to talk to Daniel.”
“At eleven at night?”
“He wasn't there.”
“He entered at 2:48.”
“How would I know?”
“Why Daniel?”
“Charity foundation issue.”
“Which issue?”
“God, Leandro, are you interrogating me?”
“Yes.”
She hung up.
That was answer enough.
Meanwhile, Nevaeh returned to her apartment.
She spread copies of vendor invoices across the kitchen table.
She'd printed them before her access was suspended.
Three vendors.
Different company names.
Same mailing address.
Different bank accounts.
She searched memory.
One invoice bothered her.
Not the amount.
The formatting.
A phone number.
312 area code.
But the company claimed headquarters in Indiana.
Not impossible.
Then she noticed the footer.
Payment terms: Net 45.
Every legitimate Perry vendor template she had reviewed used Net 30 unless approved otherwise.
Why would all three shell vendors use the same unusual term?
Because someone copied the same template.
Nevaeh pulled older legitimate invoices.
She found Net 45 on one.
Roth Strategic Consulting.
Owned by Daniel Roth's brother.
Her stomach turned.
Still not proof.
She needed more.
The next day Camille called.
“You are still an employee.”
“That's reassuring.”
“Legal wants your laptop.”
“They already have it.”
“Personal devices too.”
“No.”
“Nevaeh.”
“My personal phone contains private medical and financial information.”
“They can isolate business data.”
“No.”
Camille lowered her voice.
“This looks bad.”
“I know.”
“Help me help you.”
“Then answer one question.”
“I can't.”
“You haven't heard it.”
“I know you.”
Nevaeh almost smiled.
“Who requested the acquisition memo originally?”
Silence.
Camille didn't answer.
That was an answer.
“Daniel?”
“No.”
Nevaeh sat straighter.
“Stella.”
Camille said nothing.
Nevaeh's skin prickled.
Stella couldn't normally access acquisition documents.
Unless someone shared them.
“Why would Stella want it?”
“I genuinely don't know.”
Nevaeh looked at the invoices again.
Then something clicked.
Not one scheme.
Two.
She had assumed the leak and vendor fraud were connected.
What if they weren't?
What if someone discovered she was investigating the vendor fraud and used Stella's separate behavior to create an opportunity?
She called Camille back.
“Check whether the leaked memo was altered.”
“What?”
“Compare the journalist's excerpt with every saved version.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Two hours later, Camille called.
Her voice had changed.
“You were right.”
Nevaeh stood.
“How?”
“One paragraph in the leak doesn't match the final acquisition memo.”
“Which version?”
“Draft seven.”
“Who had access?”
“Six people.”
“Names.”
“I can't—”
“Camille.”
She exhaled.
“Leandro. Me. General Counsel. Daniel. Two external advisors.”
“Not Stella.”
“No.”
“So whoever leaked it had older access.”
“Yes.”
“Now check my supposed download.”
Camille understood.
“If the system shows you downloaded the final version…”
“But the leak came from draft seven.”
“Then your login didn't leak the document.”
Nevaeh smiled for the first time in two days.
Someone had framed her after the leak had already been prepared.
The evidence meant to destroy her had just become the evidence that could clear her.
But one problem remained.
Who had draft seven?
May you like
And why had Daniel Roth walked into headquarters at 2:48 in the morning?
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