Chapter 5 - He Had Been Writing My Story
The next morning, I asked my assistant to retrieve six months of my company email archives.
I searched one word.
Unstable.
Three results.
Then emotional.
Eleven.
Paranoid.
Four.
Difficult.
Twenty-three.
Most were ordinary uses.
Several were not.
Messages from Derek to senior staff.
Renee seems overwhelmed lately.
Renee has been unusually reactive.
If Renee sends anything concerning financial approvals, please loop me in.
At first glance, none looked remarkable.
Together, they formed a pattern.
He had been positioning himself as the reasonable husband managing a volatile wife.
Months before the soup.
“This is reputation preparation,” I told Detective Ortiz.
She studied the messages.
“You think he planned to discredit you?”
“I think he understood that if something happened to me, people would interpret the facts through whatever story they already believed.”
Ortiz nodded slowly.
“That’s sophisticated.”
“So is Derek.”
At Harlow Shipping, the board called an emergency meeting.
Derek appeared by video from somewhere I didn’t recognize.
His attorneys were present.
So were mine.
He requested that I be temporarily removed from risk oversight due to “the emotional impact of the ongoing investigation.”
I almost admired the audacity.
He was under investigation regarding food intended for me, and his proposed solution was to remove me from the department best positioned to review financial irregularities.
Board member Thomas Greene cleared his throat.
“Renee, we’re not making assumptions.”
“Then don’t.”
Derek leaned toward his camera.
“This isn’t personal.”
I laughed.
For the first time in years, I didn’t care whether he liked the sound.
“My mother-in-law nearly died after eating food you sent specifically to me. I think we’re beyond pretending nothing is personal.”
His attorney objected.
I continued.
“I will voluntarily take paid administrative leave during the criminal investigation.”
Derek relaxed.
Then I added:
“But all compliance records must be preserved immediately under independent supervision.”
His face hardened.
“Renee.”
“Every email, vendor record, expense report, related-party transaction, executive reimbursement and DH Holdings transfer.”
Silence.
Thomas Greene stared at Derek.
“DH Holdings?”
Derek answered too quickly.
“A personal investment vehicle.”
“Funded partly through company reimbursements?”
I asked.
His attorney interrupted.
“We’re not litigating private finances in this meeting.”
“No,” I said. “We’re preserving evidence.”
The board voted.
Seven to two.
Independent forensic auditors would enter Harlow Shipping the next morning.
Derek ended the call without looking at me.
Two hours later, his attorney delivered divorce papers to my hotel.
I stared at them almost a full minute.
Sarah watched me carefully.
“How do you feel?”
“Relieved.”
She looked surprised.
“So am I.”
That evening, another surprise arrived.
Constance called.
“I want to speak with you.”
“About what?”
“Derek.”
My first instinct was no.
Then she said:
“He told me something at the hospital that doesn’t make sense.”
“What?”
“He said police would eventually discover you had purchased the medication.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“He said that?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why would he know what they’re going to discover?”
Constance was silent.
Then, very quietly:
“That is what I have been asking myself.”
For the first time, the woman who had spent six years defending Derek sounded afraid of him.
And she had reason to be.
May you like
Because twenty minutes after that call, Detective Ortiz arrived at my hotel holding a pharmacy receipt.
It showed that the cardiac medication found in the soup had indeed been purchased under my name.
