Chapter 17 - Why Me
The answer was buried inside my own military history.
Seven years earlier, during my final year of service, I had assisted in a training program involving private defense contractors.
One contractor was called Meridian Strategic Logistics.
I barely remembered it.
Federal investigators did.
Meridian had been partially owned through a Hartman shell company.
My after-action report from that program had flagged irregular procurement records.
Nothing dramatic happened at the time.
The issue was passed upward.
I left the military months later.
But according to investigators, that report helped trigger an audit that cost Meridian a major federal contract.
Howard had lost tens of millions.
I stared at the file.
“He blamed me?”
Agent Laura Chen nodded.
“He appears to have kept names of everyone involved.”
“Then why wait seven years?”
“Because revenge may not have been the original plan.”
She opened another document.
“When your employer began evaluating Hartman Maritime, your name resurfaced.”
My military history made me recognizable.
My corporate position made me useful.
Howard saw an opportunity to solve two problems with one marriage.
Gain intelligence.
Control someone he considered an old threat.
“And Gregory?”
“We don’t know how much he knew.”
I did.
Enough.
Not everything.
But enough to make him responsible.
Naomi entered the interview room carrying coffee.
“They found him.”
“Where?”
“Palm Springs.”
“Arrested?”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“He contacted his lawyer and offered to cooperate against Howard.”
I laughed without humor.
Of course.
The son had finally realized survival might require sacrificing the father.
Agent Chen’s phone rang.
She listened.
Then looked at me.
“Gregory wants to speak with you.”
“No.”
“He says he has something investigators need.”
“Then he can give it to you.”
“He claims he will only explain it to you.”
Naomi shook her head.
“Manipulation.”
“I know.”
Agent Chen said, “You are under no obligation.”
I thought about Margaret.
Claire.
Rebecca.
Sofia.
Twenty-three medical transfers.
Years of fabricated narratives.
“What does he claim to have?”
“A recording.”
“Of Howard?”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
Chen hesitated.
“Your wedding.”
I agreed to a controlled video call.
Gregory appeared on screen twenty minutes later.
No expensive suit.
No perfect hair.
No charming smile.
“You look tired,” I said.
He almost smiled.
“You always did hate small talk.”
“What recording?”
Gregory leaned toward the camera.
“My father never intended for us to return from the honeymoon married.”
My blood turned cold.
“What does that mean?”
He swallowed.
“He wanted you declared incompetent before we reached Florida.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Gregory stared into the camera.
“You don’t understand.”
Then he said it.
May you like
“He wanted you kept there permanently.”
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