Chapter 8: Eight O'Clock on Wabash
I didn't sleep.
I sat at my kitchen table with the USB drive in front of me and my phone face-up beside it, and I went through everything I knew about my family that Derek Paulson could use.
My mother, Patricia Bennett, sixty-three, retired school aide, living in Evanston on a fixed income and a mortgage she'd refinanced twice.
My sister Dana, thirty-one, a nurse, going through a custody dispute that had been grinding through the courts for seven months.
Nothing criminal.
Nothing hidden.
But leverage doesn't have to be criminal.
It just has to be painful enough to make someone stop.
At 6 a.m.
I called Dana.
She answered on the second ring, already awake.
She was always awake early now.
"Clara?
What's wrong?"
"Nothing yet," I said.
"I need to tell you something.
There's a situation at a job I'm starting.
Someone may try to contact you or Mom in the next day or two.
If anyone calls asking about me — anyone — don't answer questions.
Just call me immediately."
Silence.
"Clara, what kind of job is this?"
"The kind that pays well and matters," I said.
"I'll explain everything in a few days.
Just trust me."
"I always trust you," she said.
"That's what worries me."
I was at the corner of Wabash at 7:48.
The side entrance was a plain door set into the building's exterior, no signage.
Janet was waiting inside.
She handed me a visitor badge without a name on it.
"Thirty-eighth floor," she said.
"Ethan is already there.
Derek arrives at nine.
The board call is at nine-fifteen." She looked at the badge in my hand.
"If anyone asks, you're a compliance consultant.
I scheduled you."
"You're helping him."
"I've been helping him for eleven months," she said quietly.
"I've been waiting for him to be ready to move."
She turned and walked ahead of me without another word.
Ethan was at his desk when I walked in.
He looked like he hadn't slept either.
He stood when he saw me.
"You went to see my father."
"He called me.
He had something I needed to bring you." I placed the USB drive on his desk.
He looked at it.
Then at me.
"What's on it?"
"Financial records.
Flagged transactions.
Shell company correspondence.
And a recorded conversation between your father and Derek confirming the consulting arrangements." I sat down.
"Fourteen months of it, reviewed by a forensic accountant."
Ethan picked up the drive.
He turned it over once, the way I had the night before.
"He had this for weeks," he said.
Not a question.
"He was afraid.
He wanted to be certain." I paused.
"He also wanted to protect you from moving too early."
Ethan set the drive down and pressed both hands flat on the desk.
He stood like that for a moment.
"I need to get this to the board chair before nine-fifteen," he said.
"Janet can help with that."
He looked up.
"You talked to her."
"She talked to me.
She's been waiting for you to be ready." I held his gaze.
"Are you ready?"
He straightened.
"Call Janet in," he said.
The next forty minutes moved fast.
Janet copied the drive contents to a secure server and sent an encrypted package to the board chair, a woman named Constance Hale, with a cover note from Ethan requesting an emergency session before the standing call.
Ethan reached Constance directly by phone at 8:24.
I heard his side of the conversation from the chair against the wall where I sat and stayed out of the way.
"Constance.
I know it's early.
I need you to look at what Janet just sent before you do anything else this morning." A pause.
"No, don't call Derek.
Please." Another pause, longer.
"Because the documentation includes his own words.
Just read it first."
He hung up and turned around.
"She'll read it," he said.
"And if she calls Derek anyway?"
"Then we move faster." He looked at the clock on the wall.
8:41.
"Derek gets in at nine.
He comes up here first, every morning.
It's been his routine since I took over." His voice was flat.
"He likes to set the tone for the day."
I understood what he was saying.
"You want him to walk in here and not know yet."
"I want him to walk in here and say whatever he's going to say," Ethan said.
"With you as a witness.
And Janet outside the door."
I thought about Gerald's warning.
*He'll come at you directly.*
"He'll recognize me," I said.
"Yes," Ethan said.
"He will."
At 8:58, the door opened without a knock.
Derek Paulson stepped into the office, saw me, and stopped.
For one full second, nothing moved.
Then he smiled.
The same smooth, unhurried smile from the restaurant.
"Ms.
Bennett," he said.
"I didn't expect to see you here."
"I didn't expect to be here," I said.
"But here we are."
He looked at Ethan.
The smile stayed but the warmth behind it was completely gone.
"Ethan," he said.
"We should talk.
Privately."
"Clara stays," Ethan said.
Derek's eyes moved back to me.
Something shifted in them — a calculation running fast behind a still face.
"Your sister," he said quietly.
"Dana, isn't it?
Custody case, family court, Cook County.
That kind of proceeding can go many different ways depending on how certain background information is presented." He paused.
"I'd hate for something irrelevant to complicate things for her."
The room was completely silent.
Ethan looked at me.
I looked at Derek.
"Record that," I said to the room.
Janet's voice came through the desk speaker.
May you like
"Already running."
Derek's smile disappeared.
