Ethan Vale worked in operations.
He had been with Whitaker Home Solutions for nearly seven years.
I had hired him when the company was still small.
He had been reliable.
Quiet.
Good with numbers.
He had never caused trouble.
When Sterling confirmed the name, I didn't believe it.
“Could there be another Ethan Vale?”
“No.”
I stared at the employee file.
“Why didn't the investigator flag him?”
“He did.”
“Where?”
Sterling turned the page.
“He listed Ethan as the person who supplied background information.”
My chest tightened.
“Background information about what?”
“Your company.”
I looked at the dates.
Ethan had provided information months before the Collins family began asking questions.
He had given them organizational charts.
Property details.
Contract values.
Even estimates of my personal wealth.
“That's impossible.”
Sterling looked at me.
“It's documented.”
I leaned back.
The man I had trusted with internal operations had been feeding information outside the company.
“Find everything.”
“We already have.”
“No. Everything.”
That afternoon, we reviewed Ethan's access history.
It was extensive.
He had entered files he didn't need for his job.
He had opened executive reports.
He had accessed property records.
He had reviewed confidential contracts.
But there was no direct transfer to Martin.
Instead, the information went through an outside email account.
We traced the address.
It belonged to a consulting company.
The company had been incorporated two years earlier.
Its registered director was Ethan's cousin.
Sterling looked at me.
“That cousin is married to Linda Collins's niece.”
I closed my eyes.
The family connections seemed endless.
“How much did Ethan receive?”
“Approximately eighty thousand dollars.”
I looked at the number.
“For what?”
“Consulting fees.”
“Did he provide actual consulting services?”
“No.”
There it was.
A pipeline.
Ethan supplied information.
The Collins family paid him.
The investigator used the information.
Martin received reports.
And somehow, the divorce became the final move.
But one question remained.
Why?
What did they think they were going to accomplish?
That evening, I called Ethan.
He answered on the first ring.
“Daniel.”
“Come to my office tomorrow.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“We need to discuss your access history.”
His breathing changed.
“I don't understand.”
“Yes, you do.”
He hung up.
Twenty minutes later, I received an email.
I can explain.
I didn't respond.
The next morning, Ethan arrived with an attorney.
That told me enough.
He sat across from me.
“I didn't steal money.”
“I didn't accuse you of stealing money.”
“I didn't.”
“You stole information.”
“I was pressured.”
“By whom?”
He looked at his attorney.
Then at me.
“Linda.”
“What did she threaten?”
“My job.”
I stared at him.
“She couldn't fire you.”
“I didn't know that.”
“She told you she'd ruin me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She said you were hiding assets and planning to abandon Claire.”
I leaned forward.
“Did you believe her?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
Ethan lowered his eyes.
“I wasn't sure.”
“Then why continue?”
He didn't answer.
“Ethan.”
He finally said, “Money.”
At least he was honest.
“How much?”
“Eighty thousand.”
“And you sold company information for it.”
“Yes.”
I felt disappointment more than anger.
“Did you know they were investigating Sophie?”
His face changed.
“No.”
“Did you know Martin wanted information about her?”
“No.”
“Did you ever send anything about her?”
“No.”
I believed him.
That distinction mattered.
“Then you're done here.”
His attorney looked surprised.
“You're not terminating him?”
“I haven't decided.”
Ethan looked at me.
“I'll cooperate.”
“You will do more than cooperate.”
He nodded.
“You will provide every message, every payment record, every conversation.”
“Yes.”
“And if you lie?”
He swallowed.
“You'll know.”
“Correct.”
He left.
I sat alone for several minutes.
Then Sterling entered.
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
“Ethan says Linda wasn't the person who told him to investigate Sophie.”
“Who was?”
“He doesn't know.”
“Then find out.”
That afternoon, the investigator gave us another statement.
He remembered the voice.
The person who asked about Sophie.
A man.
Not Martin.
Not Ethan.
Not David.
Someone outside the family.
Howard had written down the number.
We traced it.
It belonged to a private consulting company.
That company had one major client.
A competitor of mine.
A company called Northbridge Development.
I knew the name.
They had tried to buy one of our divisions the previous year.
I had refused.
Now the pieces shifted.
The Collins family might not have been acting alone.
Someone may have been using their suspicion and greed for another purpose.
I called my legal team.
“Check every interaction we've had with Northbridge.”
Within hours, we found one.
Three months before Christmas, Northbridge had approached Martin about a potential partnership.
Martin had declined.
Or so the records said.
But there was an unexplained payment afterward.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
Sterling stared at the transaction.
“That isn't a family expense.”
“No.”
“Do you want me to trace it?”
“Yes.”
The money had come from an intermediary company.
The intermediary belonged to the same consulting firm that contacted Howard.
Suddenly the family investigation looked less like a divorce dispute.
Someone had been gathering information about my company.
And Martin had been useful.
I called Claire.
“Come to the office.”
She arrived quickly.
I showed her the documents.
She stared at them.
“My father took money from them?”
“Possibly.”
“But why?”
“To get information.”
She shook her head.
“He wouldn't understand corporate strategy.”
“He didn't need to.”
“He needed to believe he was protecting you.”
I nodded.
“Exactly.”
Claire sat down.
“My family thought they were investigating you.”
“They were.”
“But someone else may have been investigating the company.”
“Yes.”
She looked frightened.
“Is the company in danger?”
“Not from what we've found.”
“Then why were they interested?”
I pointed to a document.
Northbridge had been trying to acquire one of our divisions.
“What division?”
“The property-management arm.”
She looked confused.
“Why?”
“Because it controls long-term contracts with several municipal clients.”
She understood slowly.
“And your family had access to those contracts.”
“Through Ethan.”
Her face went pale.
“My father could have sold them.”
“Or someone could have bought them.”
Claire covered her mouth.
“Daniel…”
“I know.”
She stared at me.
“I helped create this.”
“You made terrible choices.”
“So did my family.”
“Yes.”
“Can you ever forgive me?”
I didn't answer.
She looked down.
“I don't expect you to.”
The investigation continued for another week.
No one was arrested.
No dramatic confrontation occurred.
Instead, documents accumulated.
Payments.
Emails.
Access logs.
Messages.
The truth was becoming a structure.
And the structure pointed somewhere I hadn't expected.
Northbridge had not approached Martin randomly.
They had known he resented me.
They had known he believed I was hiding money.
Someone had fed him information.
Someone had encouraged him to look.
Then they had used what he found.
The question was who had made the first move.
The answer came from an email buried in Howard's records.
It had been sent to him before Linda hired him.
The sender was anonymous.
But the wording was unmistakable.
Find out what Daniel Mercer is worth.
Find out what he owns.
Find out whether his daughter knows anything.
I read the message three times.
Then I looked at the timestamp.
It was dated one week before Linda ever contacted Howard.
That meant the Collins family hadn't started the investigation.
Someone had started it for them.
And whoever that person was had known about Sophie from the beginning.
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Anonymous Message Changed the Entire Investigation, Because Someone Had Been Watching My Family Before the Collinses Ever Entered the Picture
My Daughter’s Cry Cut Through the Storm, and by the Time I Reached the House, the Family Inside Had Already Made Its Choice
Part 7 of 12
