Chapter 8 - The Wrong Kind of Deadline
Claire showed Adrian the message.
His face changed.
Not panic.
Something colder.
“Call the police,” she said.
Dominic laughed bitterly. “And tell them what? That someone kidnapped our IT director because the waitress found accounting fraud?”
“Yes.”
Adrian was already dialing.
Dominic stared.
“You’re actually calling?”
Adrian looked at him.
“She said no violence.”
Claire said, “That is not why you should call.”
“No,” he replied. “But it is why I am.”
The police took the threat seriously.
Partly because Jonah’s wife had already reported him missing.
Partly because the photograph metadata contained a location fragment.
An abandoned print warehouse near Cicero.
Officers went in first.
Jonah was alive.
Shaken.
Dehydrated.
But alive.
He told detectives two masked men had taken him from his parking garage.
They asked for one thing.
His access token.
Claire listened from the hallway while Adrian spoke to an officer.
Jonah emerged an hour later.
He saw Claire and stopped.
“You.”
“Yes.”
“They kept saying your name.”
Claire’s stomach dropped.
“What did they say?”
“That you should have stayed fired.”
Victor.
Jonah rubbed his wrists.
“They made me reset Raymond’s credentials remotely.”
Adrian frowned.
“Why?”
“So they could access the accounting server without using his old token.”
Claire asked, “Did they make you create anything else?”
Jonah hesitated.
“A user.”
“What user?”
He looked embarrassed.
“CBennett.”
Claire’s blood went cold.
Adrian swore.
“They’re putting the next transfers under my name,” she said.
Jonah nodded.
“Probably.”
“Can you shut it down?”
“I can disable the account, but the audit log will still show it existed.”
“Good,” Claire said.
Adrian looked at her.
“Good?”
“We need the trail.”
He studied her.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“No.”
“You are a little.”
Claire ignored him.
Back at Bellamy House, Jonah restored the system from a clean backup.
At 9:41 p.m., Claire found the first transfer under CBennett.
$600,000.
Destination: South Harbor Relief Foundation.
Adrian recognized the name.
“My mother’s charity.”
Claire opened the next.
$415,000.
Same destination.
Third.
$900,000.
She stared at the authorization.
Not Raymond.
Not Dominic.
Not Jonah.
The user field read A.VALE.
Adrian was beside her.
Claire slowly turned the screen.
His face lost all color.
“That’s my login.”
“Did you authorize these?”
“No.”
“Can anyone access your token?”
“No.”
Jonah leaned in.
Then whispered, “Unless they have the physical backup key.”
Adrian went still.
Claire asked, “Where is it?”
He looked toward the wall safe.
May you like
“Inside there.”
The safe door was already open.
