Chapter 7 - The Trap Snaps
Monday morning, 8:45 AM.
The executive boardroom on the 30th floor of the Midwest Freight Logistics building in downtown Chicago was silent except for the soft hum of the projector.
Derek walked into the room carrying a leather notepad and a cup of coffee, expecting a routine Q1 planning meeting. He was dressed in his favorite navy suit, trying to look confident, though the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw who was sitting at the massive mahogany conference table.
At the head of the table sat the CEO of Midwest Freight, Richard Sterling, flanked by two corporate defense attorneys. Opposite them sat David Miller, my managing partner.
And sitting right beside David, dressed in a sharp black tailored blazer, with her cast neatly resting on an elevated leather footstool, was me.
Derek’s coffee mug shook in his hand. "Hannah? What... what are you doing here?"
"Sit down, Mr. Bennett," CEO Richard Sterling said, his voice dropping like an anvil into the quiet room.
Derek slowly pulled out a leather chair and sat, his eyes darting frantically between me and the corporate attorneys. "Is... is everything okay, Richard? Is this about the Q4 distribution metrics?"
"No, Derek," Sterling said coldly. "This is about Apex Supply Management."
All the color drained from Derek’s face in a fraction of a second. The healthy, sun-tanned look he tried to maintain vanished, replaced by a pasty, terrified gray.
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David Miller slid a thick white binder across the table. "We have completed a full forensic audit of your vendor approvals over the last nineteen months, Derek. Eighty-seven thousand four hundred dollars routed through false invoices to an account co-owned by you and your mother, Marilyn Bennett."
"This... this is a misunderstanding!" Derek stammered, his voice rising in pitch as he looked desperately at me. "Hannah! Tell them! You know my finances! It’s a consulting
