Chapter 7: What Reeves Knew
Grace called at six fifty-eight.
I was already dressed, already downstairs, already on my second cup of coffee when the phone rang.
Jessi was at the kitchen table.
I put it on speaker without asking her — she had said she wanted to be in the room, and I was taking her at her word.
"The text came from a burner," Grace said.
"But the number traces back to a carrier account registered in Delaware.
The same state where three of the shell companies in Daniel's documents are incorporated." She paused.
"It's not Reeves.
Reeves is a manager.
This is the person Reeves manages for."
"Harlan," I said.
A short silence.
"Where did you find that name?"
"Daniel's notes.
He flagged it as an internal code name.
Primary account holder.
He was never able to identify who."
"I identified them last night," Grace said.
"It took me until four in the morning, but I found the thread." Another pause — longer this time.
"His name is Warren Pryce.
He was a founding partner of the holding group.
He stepped back from active management twelve years ago — officially for health reasons.
His name doesn't appear on any current documentation.
But the account structures Daniel found trace back to him through four layers of shell companies."
Jessi's hand tightened around her coffee mug.
"Warren Pryce," I said.
"I've met him once.
At a board dinner, three years ago.
He barely spoke."
"He doesn't need to speak," Grace said.
"He owns eleven percent of the holding group through nominees.
He has been drawing funds through the shell structure for over a decade.
Reeves has been managing the flow and keeping the books clean." She paused.
"Daniel got close to the edge of it eight years ago.
Reeves panicked and made the call.
Pryce almost certainly approved it."
"So Pryce sent the text last night."
"I believe so.
He knows you cancelled Chicago.
He knows something has shifted.
He's trying to assess how much you know before deciding what to do."
"What does he do when he decides we know too much?"
Grace's answer was immediate.
"That's why I'm calling at seven instead of nine.
I spoke with my SEC contact at five-thirty this morning.
They are aware of Pryce — he has been a peripheral name in an unrelated inquiry for two years.
What Daniel has gives them the direct connection they've been missing." She paused.
"They want to move quickly.
But they need one thing first."
"What?"
"They need Daniel to make a formal statement today.
In person.
With the documents." She paused.
"And they need you to go to the office this morning and behave as if nothing has changed.
Keep Reeves calm.
Keep Pryce from knowing the timeline has accelerated."
Jessi looked at me across the table.
I looked back at her.
"I can do that," I said.
"There's a risk," Grace said.
"If Pryce decides the situation is unmanageable, he may move to destroy records before we can secure them.
The company's financial servers need to be preserved.
I have a contact at the firm's IT security provider — with your authorization, they can create a silent backup of the server state as of this morning.
Reeves won't see it.
Pryce won't know."
"You have my authorization."
"I need it in writing.
I'll send you a form in the next ten minutes."
"Done."
"One more thing." Grace's voice shifted slightly — not softer, but more careful.
"The text Pryce sent.
He said cancelling Chicago was a mistake.
I think he was planning to use the trip.
Not to harm you — nothing that direct.
But Chicago was where the acquisition was closing.
There are documents in that deal that would have given Reeves access to a new set of accounts.
Accounts that could have been used to deepen the trail against you." She paused.
"Fiona stopped more than a secret visit.
She may have stopped the whole frame from being completed."
The kitchen was very quiet.
Jessi set her mug down.
Her eyes were wet.
She didn't say anything.
"I'll be at the office by nine," I said to Grace.
"Good.
Don't let Reeves see you looking at him differently."
"I won't."
"And if he mentions Chicago — if he asks about rescheduling — tell him you're thinking about next week.
Give him a reason to stay patient."
"Understood."
I ended the call.
Jessi was still looking at the table.
"She stopped it," Jessi said.
"Fiona stopped it."
"Yes."
"She didn't even know what she was stopping."
"No," I said.
"She just knew she didn't want me to go."
Jessi pressed her fingers against her eyes for a moment.
When she lowered her hands, her jaw was set.
"What do you need from me today?"
"Take Daniel to wherever Grace directs.
Stay with him.
Don't contact Wendy until I tell you it's safe."
"You still think Wendy told Reeves about Chicago."
"I think it's possible she told someone, without understanding what she was doing." I stood up.
"But I don't know yet.
And until I do, I need her not to know we're moving."
Jessi nodded.
She stood up too.
She straightened the collar of my jacket — a small, automatic gesture, the kind built by eleven years of mornings.
"Come home tonight," she said.
"I will."
I picked up my briefcase.
At the front door, I paused.
"Jessi."
She looked up.
"When this is over — all of it — I want Daniel to come home.
Properly.
Not a building in an industrial district.
Home."
Her face broke, just for a second.
Then it steadied.
"Okay," she said.
"Yes."
I walked out to the car.
The guest cottage curtains were open now.
Wendy was standing at the window, watching me leave.
I didn't wave.
I didn't look away either.
I just got in the car and drove.
Reeves was already in the building when I arrived.
He came to my office at nine-fifteen with a coffee and a folder and his usual easy manner, and he sat across from my desk and talked about the Chicago acquisition for eleven minutes without once looking uncomfortable.
He was very good.
"I was thinking," he said, setting the folder on my desk, "we could reschedule for next Wednesday.
The counterparty is flexible.
It would give us time to review the final terms."
"Next Wednesday works," I said.
He smiled.
"Good.
I'll reach out to their team." He stood.
"Everything alright?
You seem a little quiet this morning."
"Didn't sleep well," I said.
"Fiona okay?"
"She's fine." I met his eyes.
"Thanks for asking."
He left.
I waited until the door closed, then I looked at the folder he'd placed on my desk.
I hadn't touched it.
I wasn't going to touch it until Grace told me it was safe.
My phone showed a message from Grace: *Server backup complete.
Daniel is with the SEC.
Statement in progress.*
I set the phone face-down and looked out the window at the city below.
Reeves had just handed me a folder.
He had smiled.
May you like
He had asked about my daughter.
He had no idea the clock had already run out.
