Chapter 5 - Naomi’s NameMarcus chose a restaurant where the tables were far apart.
That was the first thing Adrian noticed.
The second was that Marcus had already ordered him bourbon.
“I don’t drink at eleven in the morning.”
“You used to.”
“I also used to sleep past seven.”
Marcus smiled.
“Fatherhood ruined you.”
The joke hit wrong.
Marcus realized it.
“Sorry.”
Adrian sat across from him.
Marcus Bell had been his friend since business school. They had built Brooks Marine Technologies from a rented warehouse, three engineers and money borrowed against Adrian’s mother’s house.
Marcus had stood beside Adrian at Naomi’s funeral.
He had held Junie when Adrian couldn’t stop shaking.
Some betrayals announced themselves loudly.
Others sat across from you wearing the same watch they had worn for fifteen years.
Marcus leaned forward.
“How’s Junie?”
“Scared.”
“And Corinne?”
“I don’t know.”
Marcus frowned.
“You haven’t spoken to her?”
“No.”
“That’s not healthy.”
Adrian almost laughed.
“Thank you, Dr. Phil.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Marcus pushed the untouched bourbon toward the center.
“Adrian, kids fall.”
“Kids also get pushed.”
“You weren’t there.”
“No.”
Marcus leaned back.
“Exactly.”
Adrian studied him.
“You sound like Corinne.”
“I sound like someone who doesn’t want you destroying your marriage based on something a frightened four-year-old said.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
Marcus noticed.
“Careful.”
“With what?”
“The next sentence.”
Marcus rubbed his jaw.
“I’m not calling Junie a liar.”
“Good.”
“I’m saying memory gets messy under trauma.”
“You learn that from Corinne’s lawyer?”
“Come on.”
“Why did she call you?”
“I told you.”
“No. You gave me words. I asked for an answer.”
Marcus’s friendly expression disappeared.
“You’re angry.”
“My daughter almost died.”
“And now you’re looking for someone to punish.”
Adrian stood.
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Sit down.”
“I’m done.”
“Northstar increased its offer.”
Adrian stopped.
There it was.
Business.
Always business.
“What?”
“Two point one billion.”
“I said no.”
“The board hasn’t.”
“I control enough votes.”
Marcus hesitated.
Adrian saw it.
“What?”
“Naomi’s shares complicate that.”
Adrian slowly sat again.
“What does my dead wife have to do with my daughter falling off a yacht?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why did you bring her up?”
Marcus looked irritated with himself.
“Because the trust controls thirty-four percent of the company.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
Marcus continued.
“Naomi didn’t just leave stock to Junie. There are governance restrictions. Transfer restrictions. Voting provisions.”
“You seem well informed.”
“I chair the board.”
“You don’t administer my daughter’s trust.”
“No, but I understand the cap table.”
Adrian stared at him.
“What happens to those shares if something happens to Junie?”
Marcus blinked.
Barely.
That was enough.
“Why would you ask me that?”
“I’m asking now.”
“I don’t know.”
“You just gave me a lecture on governance provisions.”
Marcus leaned back.
“Talk to your lawyer.”
“I will.”
Adrian left without touching the bourbon.
Two hours later he was sitting in the downtown office of Elise Rowan, the attorney who had handled Naomi’s estate.
Elise was sixty-two and had the gift of making wealthy men feel like disorganized interns.
“You should have read this seven years ago.”
“Naomi read it.”
“That was precisely the problem with your marriage.”
Adrian looked up.
“What problem?”
“She did the reading. You did the trusting.”
That hurt because it was true.
Elise opened a thick trust binder.
“Naomi placed all her Brooks Marine holdings into an irrevocable trust for Junie.”
“I know.”
“Do you know why?”
“For Junie’s future.”
“That was one reason.”
“What was the other?”
Elise turned several pages.
“Control.”
Adrian frowned.
“Naomi became concerned about financial practices at Brooks Marine during the final year of her life.”
“What practices?”
“She never completed the investigation.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She tried.”
The words struck him harder than expected.
Elise removed a copy of an old email.
From Naomi.
To Adrian.
We need to talk about Marcus and the vendor accounts. Not tonight. Tomorrow when you can actually listen.
Adrian remembered the message.
He had been in Seattle.
Junie had a fever.
Naomi was midway through chemotherapy.
He had replied:
Absolutely. Home Thursday. Love you.
Thursday never came.
Naomi was admitted to the hospital Wednesday night.
She died nine weeks later.
Adrian stared at the email.
“I forgot this.”
“Elise?”
“What?”
“What happens to the shares if Junie dies?”
Elise’s expression changed.
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
She closed the office door.
Then returned.
“The beneficial interest terminates.”
“And the shares?”
“They do not pass to you.”
Adrian felt something shift.
“They don’t?”
“No.”
“Where do they go?”
“To the Naomi Brooks Foundation.”
Adrian stared at her.
“Then anyone telling Corinne she would indirectly inherit those shares if Junie died…”
“Would be lying.”
Elise leaned closer.
“Has someone told her that?”
“I don’t know.”
But Adrian remembered Marcus’s hesitation.
He remembered the missing footage.
And then Elise said something that made every hair along his arms rise.
“There’s another issue.”
“What?”
“Three months ago, someone requested a full copy of Junie’s trust.”
“Who?”
Elise rotated her computer monitor.
The request was signed electronically.
CORINNE BROOKS.
Adrian looked at the screen.
May you like
His wife had been studying what happened to Junie’s money months before Junie almost fell into the ocean.
And she had never told him.
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