The next morning, I was in my garden when Richard Whitmore called.
I had been trimming one of my rose bushes.
The gardening gloves were damp.
There was a small pile of cut stems beside my feet.
I heard my phone ringing from the table near the back door.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw his name.
For a moment, I stood looking at the screen.
I knew he wouldn't be calling to ask about the roses.
I removed one glove.
Then answered.
"Good morning, Richard."
He didn't return the greeting.
"Margaret, we need to straighten this out."
I sat on the garden chair.
"Straighten what out?"
"Yesterday."
I looked toward the cottage.
"What about yesterday?"
He made an impatient sound.
"You walked into a meeting, questioned my integrity, and had me escorted out of my own office."
I waited.
"I've given that company eight years."
"I know."
"Eight years of results."
"Those results are being reviewed."
He breathed heavily.
"You've embarrassed me in front of everyone."
I looked at the rose clippings.
"Richard, the company has questions about your division's records."
"Because of a dinner-party joke."
"No."
He spoke over me.
"Don't pretend this isn't personal."
I leaned back.
"It became a professional matter when the financial records raised serious concerns."
He went quiet for a moment.
Then his tone softened.
"Look, I recognize that I handled Friday badly."
I said nothing.
"I should never have made that comment about cleaning the bathrooms."
"That's true."
"It was rude."
"Yes."
"But I've apologized."
"I heard you."
"Then what else do you want?"
I looked toward the roses.
"Answers to the questions raised by the investigation."
He sighed.
"Margaret, you're making this unnecessarily difficult."
"Richard, I didn't create those payments."
"I didn't either."
"Then the investigation will help establish what happened."
He changed direction.
"Reinstate me."
I remained silent.
"Let me return to work, and we'll put this behind us."
"That's not possible while the review is ongoing."
"Cancel it."
"No."
His voice became sharper.
"You're prepared to destroy my career over paperwork?"
"I'm prepared to have the paperwork examined."
He gave a short, humorless laugh.
"You have no idea what my position requires."
"Then you should be able to explain your decisions."
He didn't answer that.
Instead, he spoke more quietly.
"Think about our families."
I closed my eyes for a second.
There it was again.
Daniel.
Vanessa.
The wedding.
He was trying to turn them into reasons the company should stop asking questions.
"Your daughter is engaged to my son," he continued.
"I'm aware."
"Whatever happens to me affects them."
"That's unfortunate."
"Is that all you have to say?"
I looked at James's photograph through the kitchen window.
"Richard, Daniel's relationship with Vanessa has nothing to do with whether your division followed company procedures."
"You can't separate them."
"I have to."
He sounded angry now.
"You're being emotional."
I almost laughed.
It was a familiar accusation.
Men had said that to me in business meetings long before Collins Industrial Holdings became successful.
Sometimes they said it when I questioned a number.
Sometimes when I refused a bad contract.
Sometimes simply because I disagreed with them.
I had learned not to waste much time answering it.
"Richard, the independent investigators will contact you through the appropriate channels."
"Margaret—"
"If you want to cooperate, that's where you should provide your explanations."
He fell silent.
Then he said, "You'll regret handling this publicly."
I looked at the bright morning sky.
"The investigation will be handled properly."
He made another irritated sound.
I ended the call.
For several seconds, I sat with the phone in my hand.
I didn't feel powerful.
I didn't feel pleased.
I felt tired.
Richard had spoken for several minutes.
Not once had he asked about the thirty-seven employee complaints.
Not once had he mentioned Emily Carter.
And not once had he expressed concern about the workers whose overtime records were being examined.
Everything had been about his career.
His embarrassment.
His reputation.
I picked up my gardening glove.
Then the phone rang again.
Rebecca.
I answered immediately.
"Good morning."
"Margaret, the independent audit team has sent its findings."
I set the glove down.
"Tell me."
She began with the vendor payments.
Several firms had received substantial amounts for work the investigators could not adequately verify.
Invoices existed.
Payments had been made.
But the supporting records were incomplete.
"How much?" I asked.
"Approximately two million eight hundred thousand dollars in confirmed questionable transactions at this stage."
I closed my eyes.
The figure was no longer just an early estimate.
The review had found enough evidence to substantiate serious concerns about those payments.
"Can they identify who benefited?"
"Some records suggest connections between the vendors and individuals associated with Richard's management team."
"And his brother-in-law?"
"There's evidence linking one property business involving him to an address used in the vendor arrangements."
I looked down at my hands.
"Does that establish Richard personally received money?"
"Not by itself."
"Then the report must say exactly that."
"It does."
I was grateful.
It was tempting to turn suspicions into conclusions when someone had behaved badly.
But a cruel man could still be falsely accused of something.
And an investigation had to be fair.
"Continue," I said.
Rebecca moved to the employee complaints.
Several concerns had been supported by the records.
There were problems with overtime compensation.
Maintenance had been delayed.
Some safety complaints had not received adequate follow-up.
And there was evidence that employees had been discouraged from reporting problems.
I gripped the arm of my chair.
"Discouraged how?"
"Some employees reported being warned about the consequences of continuing complaints. The investigators have reviewed the available documentation."
I stared at the garden.
Thirty-seven files.
That number had been following me since Saturday.
I had imagined people filling out complaint forms.
Waiting for replies.
Wondering whether they were risking their jobs.
Now some of those concerns appeared to have been justified.
"Have the workers been informed that the complaints are being reviewed independently?"
"The process is underway."
"Make sure they have a safe way to speak."
"We will."
I looked toward the cottage.
"Rebecca, I don't want anyone pressured into withdrawing a complaint."
"Neither do the investigators."
"And the people who reported safety problems need to know someone is listening."
"I understand."
She paused.
"There's also a preliminary finding about the proposed vendor agreement."
"The fourteen-million-dollar contract?"
"Yes."
"The one we stopped?"
"Correct."
I rubbed my forehead.
"Was there a legitimate reason to move forward with that supplier?"
"The supporting justification was insufficient given the unresolved concerns."
I sat quietly.
Fourteen million dollars over five years.
The company could have been tied to a questionable arrangement for a long time.
I thought of the first factory.
James and I had once worried about an invoice worth a few thousand dollars.
We had examined every contract because one bad decision could have closed our doors.
Now our business was large enough that millions could move through a division without reaching my desk.
That growth was something I'd once celebrated.
That morning, it frightened me.
"Prepare the findings for the board," I said.
"Already in progress."
"Legal counsel needs to review everything."
"They're doing that."
"And no final employment decision until the proper process has been followed."
"Of course."
Rebecca went quiet.
Then she asked a question I hadn't expected.
"Margaret, are you all right?"
I looked at my bare hand.
There was a small scratch from one of the rose stems.
"I'm disappointed."
"I know."
"We gave Richard a great deal of responsibility."
"Yes."
"And the people who suffered may have been the ones least able to challenge him."
Rebecca said nothing.
I looked toward the sky.
"James would have been furious."
"He would have wanted the records examined."
I smiled sadly.
"Yes. He would."
After the call, I went inside.
I washed my hands.
Then made another pot of coffee.
My first cup had gone cold.
The kitchen felt different without Daniel sitting across from me.
His cup was back in the cupboard.
The plate of biscuits remained on the table.
I thought about the previous afternoon.
The phone call with Vanessa.
His tears.
The way he'd held his father's photograph.
I wanted to call him.
Instead, I left him alone for a while.
He needed room to think.
There were things I could do for him.
Make coffee.
Listen.
Tell him the truth.
But I couldn't choose the woman he would marry.
I had to trust him to make that decision.
I carried my coffee into the office.
The audit documents had arrived.
I read them carefully.
The numbers were important.
The supporting records were important.
But what stayed with me were the employee statements.
I did not know every worker by name.
In a company our size, that would have been impossible.
Still, I felt responsible for the conditions under which they worked.
I had signed the policies.
Approved the leadership structure.
Trusted executives to enforce standards.
Now I had to consider whether those standards had been followed.
I thought about the workers who might have stayed silent because they feared losing their jobs.
They deserved more than a formal apology.
They deserved a company that acted differently.
I made notes.
Independent reporting.
Regular safety reviews.
Compensation checks.
Clear responsibility for investigating complaints.
Nothing elaborate.
Just the protections people should already have had.
I placed the notes beside the audit.
Then I looked at the email involving Daniel's studio.
Four and a half million dollars.
That proposed contract had not reached my son.
Richard had initiated it without Daniel's knowledge.
I was grateful for that much.
But I still didn't know how much Vanessa understood about her father's plans.
I turned the page over.
For now, the company investigation had to proceed independently.
The board would examine the findings.
Richard would have the opportunity to respond.
And the legal team would determine which matters required referral outside the company.
I closed the folder.
There was no reason to rush the process.
But there was every reason to complete it.
Three days later, the board was scheduled to meet again.
This time, Richard would attend with his attorney.
I wrote the date in my calendar.
Then returned to the garden.
The roses still needed trimming.
And for the first time since Friday evening, I was grateful for a task that required nothing more than patience and a steady hand.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: Richard Brought His Attorney to the Board Meeting, but the Records He Refused to Explain Finally Cost Him His Position
My Son’s Future Father-in-Law Offered Me a Cleaning Job at Dinner, Never Knowing I Owned the Company That Paid Him
Part 7 of 15
