If I were presumed dead and Adrian could exercise temporary voting authority over my shares, he could force Mercer Holdings into selling the Evermere River terminal below market value.
That terminal controlled access to almost a third of our regional freight network.
Lose it, and Mercer Holdings would weaken overnight.
His father could then acquire more of the company through debt pressure.
“It isn’t a simple takeover,” I said.
“No.”
Noah looked almost impressed despite himself.
“It’s better.”
“They don’t need to steal Mercer Holdings directly.”
“They just cut out the artery.”
Adrian needed three things.
Proof I was unavailable.
Temporary spousal authority.
And a signed emergency resolution.
The first two he believed he had.
The third would happen that afternoon.
I looked at our general counsel.
“Can we stop it?”
“Yes.”
“Quietly?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“Then don’t.”
Noah frowned.
“Elena.”
“I want Adrian to sign.”
“He already tried to kill you.”
“And now he’s going to commit fraud while believing nobody is watching.”
The prosecutor who joined us thirty minutes later hated the idea.
The state investigator hated it more.
But the financial-crimes team understood the opportunity.
They already had evidence of deliberate tampering with the SUV.
Divers recovered it shortly after sunrise.
The wire on my restraint had been installed before impact.
Traffic cameras showed Adrian purchasing similar hardware.
A service camera placed his car near the river road earlier that week.
Still not enough to explain everything.
So we let him continue.
Not freely.
Every sensitive Mercer Holdings transfer was silently frozen.
Any signature he made would create evidence, not ownership.
At 1:00 p.m., Adrian entered a private bank office in Bellmere.
He was not grieving publicly.
Not yet.
He wore a dark suit.
