Page 20 of Oleander

Hollis looked at the small red dot in the corner of the display and seemed offended that it had been there without his permission. He muted the call.

For the first time that evening, the shareholders could see him without hearing him. He paced behind the bar. He pointed at the screen. His mouth formed Dorothy’s name twice. Then he swept the silver frame from the cabinet. It struck the carpet, opened at the hinge, and released the photograph beneath the table.

He unmuted.

“She arranged this,” he said.

“Dorothy?” Calvin asked.

“She filled the company with people loyal to her. She documented disagreements as if building a case. She left files where frightened little accountants could find them. She knew this would happen.”

“She knew the platform was unsafe,” Evelyn said. “That is not the same thing.”

“She wanted me diminished. Even in her old age, she wanted the last word.”

“She left warnings,” Peter said. “The platform left wreckage. You are the one making this about victory.”

A chime sounded. Calvin’s sale had executed. Then Nathan’s. Then Merle’s. Each notification was small and polite, the kind of sound designed not to disturb a meeting. To Hollis, they seemed louder than the rig alarms preserved in the emergency recordings.

“Stop the orders,” he said. “All of you. I will authorize a buyback at yesterday’s close.”

Lila gave a tired smile.

“With what money?”

“The contingency reserve.”

“That reserve is for environmental cleanup and the families,” Evelyn said.

“A company with no share price helps no family.”

“There it is,” Evelyn said. “Every death converted into leverage. Every warning converted into disloyalty. Every company dollar converted into something with your initials stitched into it.”

Hollis glanced toward the sofa cushions. His monogram was embroidered in navy thread at each corner.

“You enjoyed it,” he said. “Every one of you came aboard. Every one of you ate the food, drank the wine, posed on the bow. Do not discover ethics because the market turned.”

“We are not asking to be forgiven,” Calvin replied. “We are ending our part in it.”

Outside, the harbor lights had fallen behind. The yacht entered darker water, where its own illumination showed nothing beyond the rail. Hollis had always loved that effect. The vessel became a private world, complete and floating, with no visible land to contradict him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“I’ve got him,” said Eric running out the door to catch him. Luke looked at Jean and back at the room.

“We need to read the rest of that diary. Ms. Martin was trying to tell all of us something and we missed it. If she really did kill herself using the oleander, just to draw out Hollis and put him in front of us, we’re going to honor her wishes and stop him.”

“Agreed,” nodded Jean staring out the window. He turned back to the others in the room. “First, we might want help Eric hold him down.”

Fifty men stormed out of the room, all racing toward Eric who was holding Rod against a tree with his forearm.

“Stop fighting me!” yelled Eric. “We’re trying to help you.”

“I’m going to kill him!” he said gasping for air.

“We all want to kill him,” said Luke stepping closer. “But we do it the right way. We make sure that the men and women on his platforms are safe first. Then we tear his business down, brick by brick. Finally, we’ll take him down. Permanently.”

Eric slowly released him as he sank to the ground against the tree. Beside him, Irene and Matthew appeared. Irene kissed his cheek, Matthew taking his hand in his own. It seemed Rod expelled every pent-up emotion in one huge breath.