Chapter 5 - The Dead Man's Complaint
June did not cry.
That was worse.
She stared at Caleb's complaint like grief had turned her body to stone.
"They told me he slipped from a loading platform," she said.
I remembered the accident. Barely. Five years earlier, one worker dead at our Joliet distribution center. Safety report. Insurance settlement. Condolence letter signed electronically in my name.
I had never met his widow.
She had been cleaning my house for eighteen months.
"I didn't know," I said.
June looked at me. "That's becoming a very expensive sentence, Mr. Blackwell."
The words landed exactly where they should.
Rachel read Caleb's statement aloud. He had noticed labor deductions being moved into vendor accounts. He named a supervisor, a payroll analyst, and one executive who told him to stop asking questions.
Victor Lang.
The official investigation file listed no interview with Victor.
"Who closed the accident case?" I asked.
Nolan searched.
"Risk Management. Director at the time was Stephen Cross."
Stephen was now a Blackwell board member and one of Victor's closest allies.
June finally stood.
"I want to see the accident report."
Rachel said gently, "June, that could be difficult."
"My husband died. I raised two kids by myself. I worked double shifts. I sold his truck to pay rent. If someone buried the truth, I get to know."
No one argued.
By noon, Nolan recovered the archived report.
Caleb supposedly fell because a safety rail failed.
But attached maintenance photographs showed the rail had been cut cleanly near the base.
Not rusted.
Not broken.
Cut.
Rachel swore under her breath.
Then my phone rang.
Victor.
I answered on speaker.
"Marcus," he said warmly. "Heard you had a late night. Everything okay at the house?"
I looked at Brent, then June.
"Fine."
"Security says Brent disappeared from his post."
"I'm handling it."
A pause.
"You sound tired."
"I am."
"Take the day. I'll cover the office."
There it was. A gentle offer to keep me away.
"Good idea," I said.
Victor relaxed. "I'll call later."
Before hanging up, he added, "Oh, and Marcus? Tell June I hope her kids are enjoying St. Matthew's Elementary."
The line went dead.
June's face went white.
Her children did not attend St. Matthew's.
They had transferred schools three days earlier.
May you like
Only June, her mother, and I knew the new school.
Someone had already followed them.
