By the time I reached Northline, Rebecca's office had been emptied.
Her desk was clean.
Too clean.
The framed photograph of her parents was gone.
The small ceramic plant she had kept beside her monitor was gone.
Even the notebook she carried everywhere had disappeared.
Someone had planned this.
Daniel's legal team had already secured the main server.
Evan was no longer permitted inside the office.
The rest of the employees had been told only that an internal review was underway.
I walked into Rebecca's office and stood there for a long time.
It was strange how quickly a familiar room could become foreign.
This was where we had celebrated our first major contract.
Where we had argued about hiring.
Where we had stayed until midnight before submitting bids.
Where Rebecca had once told me that Northline would never become the kind of company where people sacrificed their lives just to make someone else richer.
I had believed her.
Daniel arrived with one of his attorneys.
“We found something.”
He handed me a folder.
Inside was a list of financial transfers.
One account had received payments from an outside consulting company.
The company had no employees listed publicly.
But one name appeared in its registration records.
Rebecca Shaw.
I looked up.
“She owned it?”
“Through another entity.”
“How much?”
“Seventy-eight thousand dollars over six months.”
My stomach tightened.
“From whom?”
“We're tracing the source.”
I stared at the numbers.
That was far more than Dylan's thirty-five thousand.
“So Dylan wasn't the main reason.”
“No.”
“Then what was she doing?”
Daniel's attorney answered.
“We believe she was positioning herself to acquire a controlling interest in Northline if you were forced into financial distress.”
I couldn't speak.
Daniel continued.
“She appears to have anticipated that the Mercer dispute could damage your firm's reputation.”
“So she created the dispute.”
“Possibly.”
“Using my brother.”
“That's what the evidence suggests.”
I sat down.
The whole thing suddenly made terrible sense.
If Mercer Freight believed Northline had acted improperly, our contract could have been suspended.
If the company lost the account, our cash flow would have tightened.
If other clients followed, the firm's value could have fallen.
Rebecca could then step in with outside funding.
She wouldn't need to destroy Northline.
She only needed to make me desperate enough to accept her terms.
“What did she want?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Control.”
I remembered every conversation about expansion.
Rebecca had repeatedly pushed me to take on more debt.
She had argued that we needed a bigger office.
More employees.
More equipment.
More aggressive growth.
I had resisted.
At the time, she thought I was timid.
Maybe I had simply been cautious for the right reasons.
Daniel placed another document in front of me.
“This is a draft acquisition agreement.”
I read it.
My name appeared as the seller.
Rebecca's holding company appeared as the buyer.
The proposed price was far below Northline's actual valuation.
The agreement had never been signed.
But it had been prepared.
There was one line highlighted near the bottom.
The seller represented that no material disputes existed with major clients.
I understood immediately.
If Mercer terminated us for misconduct, that clause would become relevant.
Rebecca had been preparing to buy a damaged company.
My company.
I closed the folder.
“Where is she?”
“We don't know.”
“Can you find her?”
“We're working on it.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Why didn't you tell me earlier that she had resigned?”
“We were verifying the evidence.”
That was reasonable.
It didn't make the betrayal easier.
Then Dylan called.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
“At a motel.”
“Which one?”
He gave me the name.
“I found something.”
I closed my eyes.
“What now?”
“There was another file on the drive.”
“Send it.”
“I think you need to hear it first.”
I nearly refused.
Then I remembered that every time we thought we understood the situation, another piece appeared.
“Send it.”
A few seconds later, an audio file arrived.
I played it.
Rebecca's voice filled the room.
This recording was different.
She was speaking to someone I didn't recognize.
“You need to make sure the property issue looks legitimate.”
The other voice answered.
“It will.”
“How?”
“The deed copy is enough.”
“And Mara?”
“She'll be too busy defending the company.”
I stopped the recording.
Daniel's attorney leaned toward the speaker.
“Continue.”
I pressed play.
Rebecca spoke again.
“She trusts her family more than she trusts herself.”
The other person laughed.
“That makes her predictable.”
My stomach turned.
Then Rebecca said something that made the room go silent.
“If everything goes according to plan, she won't even know she was pushed.”
I stopped the audio.
Daniel looked at me.
“Do you recognize the second voice?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
The attorney asked for the original file.
I sent it.
Daniel's phone rang.
He answered.
After a few seconds, his expression changed.
He looked at me.
“There's a problem.”
“What?”
“The audio metadata shows it was recorded on a phone registered to Rebecca.”
I stared at him.
“So she recorded it herself.”
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
He didn't answer.
Then the attorney said, “Maybe she wanted insurance.”
That made sense.
Rebecca had been planning several layers of protection.
If the scheme failed, she could use the recording to bargain.
If it succeeded, she could erase it.
But she had underestimated how quickly the evidence could connect the pieces.
I returned to the office that evening.
Evan's desk had been cleared.
Someone had placed his personal belongings in a box.
I stopped beside it.
He had left behind a small notebook.
I opened it.
Most pages contained ordinary work notes.
Then I found a page with three names.
Dylan.
Rebecca.
And a third name.
Martin Hale.
I recognized it.
Martin had been a consultant who worked with Northline several months earlier.
He had helped us review financing options.
He also knew about the company's valuation.
I photographed the page.
Then my phone rang.
Nora.
“I found something.”
“What?”
“Martin Hale's name appears in the original property transaction records.”
I went still.
“How?”
“He requested a copy of the appraisal during the financing review.”
“Why would he need that?”
“I don't know.”
I looked at the notebook.
Three names.
Dylan.
Rebecca.
Martin.
Suddenly, the hidden account, the altered deed, the missing files, and the attempted acquisition no longer looked like separate events.
They were pieces of one plan.
And if Martin had been involved from the beginning, then Rebecca's disappearance wasn't an escape.
It was the next move.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: The Person Behind Rebecca’s Plan Finally Stepped Forward, and I Learned Why My Family’s House Had Been the Key to Destroying My Business
I Came Home Expecting an Ordinary Tuesday and Found My Belongings Packed, My Family Waiting, and My Brother Already Celebrating My Departure
Part 10 of 12
