Chapter 4 - THE COMPANY NAMED AFTER HER FATHER
WDS Holdings existed before I was born.
That eliminated one theory immediately.
It was not named for me.
Maybe not even Woods.
But Larkin recognized the incorporation date.
“1989.”
“So?”
“My father started expanding into construction that year.”
We pulled old registry documents.
WDS:
Whitaker Development Systems.
Not Woods.
Good.
Then the beneficial owner history loaded.
Amended fifteen years later.
Owner:
Margaret Woods.
My mother.
I stopped breathing.
“No.”
Larkin stared at the screen.
“Your mother owned this.”
“She worked at a library.”
“That doesn’t prevent corporate ownership.”
“She would have told me.”
“Maybe.”
I glared.
He corrected:
“Maybe she didn’t know.”
Better.
Forgery.
Nominee ownership.
Identity misuse.
We needed evidence.
The company had received over thirty million dollars across two decades.
Some before my father died.
Some after.
Then distributions moved into trusts.
Larkin’s internal records described WDS as a “legacy clearing entity.”
Authorized by:
STEPHEN STEVES.
Larkin’s father.
And:
JOSEPH WOODS.
My father.
My stomach twisted.
“Dad signed.”
“Maybe.”
The signature looked like his.
Larkin did not jump to conclusions.
For all his sins, he understood documents.
We compared old samples.
Likely genuine.
“So my father helped your father.”
“Or built the structure while investigating it.”
Which?
Then another authorization.
Recent.
Two months ago.
THOMAS STEVES.
Larkin’s cousin.
There.
The room became cold.
Thomas had been moving money through a company tied to my parents.
“How much?”
Larkin searched.
Nine million over eighteen months.
Some transactions matched the theft pattern I had identified.
I whispered:
“Thomas.”
Larkin said nothing.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“You trust him?”
“Yes.”
The answer came painfully.
“He’s my cousin. We grew up together.”
“Which means nothing.”
His eyes lifted.
“Apparently.”
Then we found an internal memo.
Thomas describing WDS as “protected legacy channel.”
Protected by what?
Larkin’s father’s old authority.
Nobody questioned it.
That was how fraud survives.
Not through invisibility.
Through familiarity.
Then my phone rang.
Thomas.
I declined it.
Again.
Again.
Then text:
WHERE ARE YOU?
I showed Larkin.
He said:
“Do not answer.”
I stared.
He changed.
“Please don’t answer.”
Better.
Then another message.
YOU NEED TO LEAVE LARKIN’S OFFICE.
My skin prickled.
How did Thomas know where I was?
Larkin looked toward the ceiling.
Security.
Then his office lights died.
Entire floor.
Emergency system failed too.
No accident.
Larkin moved toward the desk.
Gun.
Of course.
I backed away.
“Thomas?”
“Maybe.”
Then my phone buzzed again.
This time with a photograph.
Me.
Sitting in Larkin’s office.
Taken seconds earlier.
From inside the room.
I stared around.
No one.
Then Larkin looked at a decorative shelf.
Tiny camera lens.
Hidden.
His own office had been compromised.
Thomas’s message:
HE’S BEEN LYING TO YOU FROM DAY ONE.
Then:
ASK HIM WHO SIGNED THE ORDER TO KILL YOUR FATHER.
I looked at Larkin.
His face went pale.
May you like
Not confusion.
Recognition.
