Angela remained standing until Daniel invited her to sit as well.
Samuel placed his canvas bag on the table.
He removed a thick folder, a small notebook, and a sealed envelope.
Marcus watched with growing unease.
Samuel opened the folder.
"Three months ago, I received a letter from Harold Bennett."
Daniel nodded.
"You told me."
"I did."
Samuel turned a page.
"Since then, I've spoken with eleven former employees, five current contractors, and several people who used to manage your maintenance operations."
Marcus stiffened.
Daniel leaned forward.
"What did you find?"
Samuel removed a document.
"Let's start with a company called Meridian Facility Solutions."
Marcus felt his mouth go dry.
Samuel continued.
"Meridian billed Whitmore Holdings more than eight hundred thousand dollars over eighteen months."
Daniel frowned.
"That's one of our maintenance vendors."
"According to its registration, the company operates from a small office in suburban Atlanta. It has no publicly identifiable repair fleet, no substantial equipment inventory, and very few employees."
Marcus interrupted.
"Small contractors often subcontract specialized work. That's perfectly normal."
Samuel looked at him.
"You're right."
Marcus relaxed slightly.
Samuel placed another document on the table.
"What's less normal is that Meridian's registered business address was previously associated with your brother-in-law."
Silence filled the room.
Daniel slowly turned toward Marcus.
"Is that true?"
Marcus cleared his throat.
"My brother-in-law has several business interests."
"Did you disclose that relationship?"
"The company wasn't directly owned by him."
Samuel opened another page.
"According to these records, he was involved in its formation."
Marcus leaned forward.
"Those records could be misleading."
"Then help us understand them."
Marcus hesitated.
Samuel continued.
"Meridian received payment for electrical work at our Columbus property last October."
Daniel looked up.
"Our first building?"
"That's right."
Samuel's voice became more serious.
"I visited the property two weeks ago. The electrical work listed on the invoice doesn't match the equipment installed in the building."
Marcus shifted in his chair.
Samuel placed photographs on the table.
"The invoice lists twelve new distribution panels. The building has six panels of the specified type, and their serial numbers show they were manufactured years before the project."
Marcus tried to speak.
Samuel raised his hand.
"I'm not accusing you of anything yet. I'm presenting discrepancies that deserve a proper investigation."
Daniel examined the photographs.
He was no electrician, but he trusted Samuel's expertise.
"What else?"
Samuel produced another file.
"Similar billing problems appeared at four other properties. Different vendors, overlapping addresses, repeated invoice descriptions, and work orders approved by the same management chain."
Marcus stared at the table.
Daniel looked toward him.
"Marcus, were you responsible for these approvals?"
"I oversaw the department, but I didn't personally authorize every invoice."
"Who did?"
"My regional supervisors."
"Who appointed them?"
Marcus said nothing.
Daniel leaned back.
The room felt suddenly colder.
Samuel looked toward Angela.
"Ms. Brooks, do you mind if I ask you something?"
Angela sat straighter.
"Of course."
"Have you ever seen employees treated unfairly for raising concerns about management decisions?"
Marcus immediately turned toward her.
Angela noticed the warning in his eyes.
For a moment, she thought about Olivia.
Her daughter's school fees.
The rent.
The savings account she had been building slowly, fifty dollars at a time.
Then she remembered the maintenance worker who had left the building carrying his belongings in a cardboard box.
She remembered Harold Bennett's final visit to headquarters.
He had stood at her desk looking exhausted and humiliated.
He had asked whether anyone from human resources would speak to him.
Nobody had.
Angela looked toward Daniel.
"Yes, sir."
Marcus leaned forward.
"Angela, be careful what you're suggesting."
Daniel's voice sharpened.
"Marcus, stop."
Angela took a breath.
"I've seen employees reprimanded for asking questions. I've seen visitors treated differently because of how they dress. And I've heard supervisors threaten people's jobs when they complained."
Daniel studied her.
"Have you reported these concerns?"
"Not formally."
"Why not?"
Angela hesitated.
"Because I was afraid I'd lose my job."
The words struck Daniel harder than any accusation in Samuel's folder.
He had created Whitmore Holdings believing it would offer opportunities to hardworking people.
Now one of his own employees was telling him she was afraid to speak honestly.
He looked toward the photograph of the old warehouse.
For a moment, he saw himself twelve years earlier, exhausted and desperate, wearing borrowed clothes to a bank meeting where a loan officer barely looked at him.
Then he saw Marcus's expensive suit.
The contrast was unbearable.
Samuel closed the folder.
"Danny, this isn't just about one manager being rude to me."
Daniel nodded slowly.
"I know."
"It's about what happens when people with power stop seeing everybody else as human."