Page 43 of Cameron's Contract

“It’s in that contract you were reading?”

“Yes.”

“Dad gave you a contract to read?” asked Henry.

“It’s five hundred pages long. Want to take a look?”

“I’m good,” he said.

I smiled and shook my head. “So, here’s where we start…”

We used the back wall to write the board members’ names and beneath it left a vertical space where we’d add in details. We set up three laptops found around the house and also utilized the desktop. We worked fast, starting with addresses, financial status, family members, and political preferences from voting records. We even managed to obtain medical data from their Cole Tea policies. Shay’s hacking skills came in handy on all fronts.

As Mia, Henry, and Shay began notating the information under each name, I sat in the corner watching footage, including interviews that had been conducted over the years, studying every perspective of each person.

I was so engrossed in a YouTube video of board member Leonard Maybury that I hadn’t noticed my mom enter. Rubbing the tiredness from my eyes, I realized she was standing stock-still, gaping at the wall’s graffiti.

“I’ll paint over it,” I told her.

She left and closed the door behind her.

After swapping a wary stare with Henry, I went back to the screen.

Twenty minutes later, Mom returned. She carried a tray with four mugs of coffee and proceeded to hand them out, adding milk and sugar as needed.

She smiled fondly at Mia as she prepared her beverage.

Mia was her usual kind and appreciative self, showing Mom there were no hard feelings.

Now it was my turn to gape, and on Mia’s subtle gesture, I closed my mouth.

Mom strolled over to the wall.

“He made me do it,” murmured Henry with a glint of mischief.

“Leonard Maybury.” She rested a fingertip by his name. “His parents were German immigrants. He studied business at Wharton. We took a holiday together a year ago with his wife Sally in Bavaria.”

I rose to my feet and headed over. “That’s good, Mom. Keep going.”

Her eyes glinted with warmth. “Leonard experienced bankruptcy in his late twenties. His first business went under due to his over-leveraged hotel and casino business in New Orleans.”

I pointed to his name. “His wife?”

She gave a nod and held her hand out for the pen. “We’re on the same charity committee. Sally’s religious.”

“Catholic?”

“Yes.”

“Do you get along with her?”

“Yes, I like her.”

I picked up the spare marker and drew a line through his name. “He’s last. Just in case.”

“Just in case?” asked Shay.

“We run out of time,” I said.