Chapter 5 - WHAT MY FATHER HID FOR NINE YEARS
I did not plug the drive into anything.
I gave it to outside counsel.
My father hated that.
Good.
Frank followed me to Peterson Tech, calling twice during the drive.
I ignored him.
At headquarters, the forensic team isolated the device on an offline system.
The drive was damaged.
But readable.
Three folders survived.
NORTH HARBOR.
HAWTHORNE.
PETERSON.
Miriam looked at me.
“Did your father create this?”
“He’s about to tell us.”
Frank sat across from us thirty minutes later.
No Derek.
No Mom.
Just Dad, me, Miriam, and outside counsel.
For the first time since I was a teenager, Frank looked unsure which version of himself to use.
The father.
The businessman.
The bully.
The victim.
Finally he chose tired old man.
“I was trying to keep your company alive.”
I opened North Harbor.
Invoices appeared.
Nine years old.
Peterson Tech had sold hardware to North Harbor Systems.
Real hardware.
Real deliveries.
But the money funding those purchases came from Hawthorne.
Which was funded by Frank.
“You created my customer.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling me.”
“You needed revenue.”
“I needed investment.”
“You wouldn’t take mine.”
“So you disguised it.”
“Yes.”
I stared.
That alone was unethical.
Potentially worse depending on how the revenue had been reported to lenders.
“Why keep Hawthorne going after we recovered?”
Frank looked toward Miriam.
“Can she leave?”
“No.”
“Virgil.”
“No.”
He exhaled.
“Hawthorne started getting paid through rebate arrangements.”
“What rebate arrangements?”
“Our customers would pay consulting fees after purchasing Peterson products.”
Miriam frowned.
“That sounds like a kickback structure.”
Frank’s face hardened.
“It wasn’t.”
“Then explain how it differs.”
He couldn’t.
I opened the second folder.
Wire transfers.
Millions.
Some from Peterson Tech.
Some from distributors.
Some from customers I recognized.
Derek’s region dominated the recent transactions.
My stomach turned.
“Derek knew.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Three years.”
“And you put him inside my sales department.”
“He needed a job.”
“You put him there to manage Hawthorne.”
Frank slammed his palm on the table.
“I PUT HIM THERE BECAUSE HE’S MY SON.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
“So am I.”
His expression changed.
Just slightly.
But enough.
I leaned back.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The difference.”
He looked confused.
“Derek needs help, so rules change.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Lucas cries, he needs to toughen up. Derek faces consequences, suddenly everybody must protect him.”
Frank stared at the table.
Miriam opened the PETERSON folder.
“There are board documents.”
I turned.
Scans of old agreements appeared.
Nine years earlier.
One document bore my signature.
Except I had never signed it.
PROMISSORY AND REVENUE PARTICIPATION AGREEMENT.
Borrower:
PETERSON TECHNOLOGIES, INC.
Lender:
HAWTHORNE STRATEGIC SERVICES.
Principal:
$4,000,000.
Revenue participation:
2.5 percent of gross enterprise sales for twelve years.
My chest tightened.
“If this were real…”
Miriam finished.
“Hawthorne could claim Peterson Tech owes significantly more.”
Frank said nothing.
I looked at him.
“You forged my signature.”
“No.”
“The document is fake.”
“Yes.”
“You made it.”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Silence.
“DAD.”
He looked at me.
“Your mother.”
I laughed because the alternative was throwing the laptop.
“Mom?”
“She handled the paperwork.”
“Why?”
“Because we both knew you would refuse.”
“So you forged a loan agreement in my name?”
“It was never supposed to be enforced.”
I stared.
“Then why does Derek have a copy?”
Frank’s face changed.
“He shouldn’t.”
There it was.
Something new.
“Where did Lucas find the drive?”
“In my office.”
“How did it get there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Dad.”
“I swear.”
Miriam spoke.
“Who had the original?”
Frank looked toward me.
“Carol.”
My mother.
I thought about her crying in the kitchen.
Her claim that she did not know what Derek was searching for.
Another lie.
Then outside counsel opened the drive’s file properties.
His expression tightened.
“This folder was modified yesterday.”
“At what time?”
“2:14 p.m.”
The barbecue started at three.
Dad’s house.
Dad’s computer.
Someone had copied these files onto the drive less than an hour before my family gathered.
This was not an old drive Lucas accidentally found.
Someone had prepared it.
Someone wanted it discovered.
Then Miriam clicked into a hidden text file.
One sentence appeared:
IF VIRGIL FINDS THIS, FRANK WILL BLAME CAROL.
My father went completely still.
Beneath it:
DO NOT BELIEVE HIM.
May you like
And then:
ASK DEREK WHO REALLY OWNS HAWTHORNE.
