Chapter 4 - The Man Inside Harlow Maritime

Agent Torres arrived at Conrad’s downtown office at 10:15 p.m.
She was not alone.
Two federal investigators entered behind her.
I expected Conrad’s attorneys to object.
Instead, Conrad placed a thick folder on the conference table.
“Internal audit. Subsidiary transfers. Port schedules. Executive-access logs.”
Torres looked at him.
“You assembled this?”
“My auditors did.”
“Why didn’t you provide it yesterday?”
“I wasn’t certain which internal systems were compromised.”
“And now?”
“Someone photographed a five-year-old child.”
Torres looked at me.
Her expression changed.
“You received a threat?”
I handed her my phone.
She read it.
“This changes things.”
“It changes nothing,” Conrad said. “You already suspected someone inside my company.”
“Yes.”
“Now we know they’re monitoring me closely enough to identify Lauren.”
Torres looked between us.
“You two are in a relationship?”
I answered first.
“That’s complicated.”
Conrad said, “Yes.”
I turned toward him.
He ignored my glare.
Torres almost smiled.
“Good. Glad we cleared that up.”
“This is not amusing,” I said.
“No, it isn’t.”
She opened the audit folder.
“Who has access to these accounts?”
“Me. Everett Sloan. General counsel Nathan Pike. Two treasury officers.”
“Who knew you were investigating?”
“Only Sloan.”
Torres looked up.
That silence said everything.
Conrad shook his head.
“Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re thinking it.”
“So are you.”
He said nothing.
Torres turned several pages.
Then tapped one transaction.
“This company. Northstar Freight Holdings.”
Conrad nodded.
“What about it?”
“It’s connected to four offshore entities we’ve been watching.”
“For money laundering?”
“For undeclared transfers. We’re still building the case.”
“And Sloan authorized these?”
“His credentials did.”
I asked, “Could someone steal his credentials?”
Conrad looked at me.
“Yes.”
Torres nodded.
“That’s what we need to determine.”
An hour later, another problem surfaced.
Hospital security called me.
Someone had attempted to access Jamie’s medical file using my credentials.
My hands shook.
“I never logged in tonight.”
The security officer replied, “We know. The request originated outside the hospital network and was blocked.”
Conrad was beside me immediately.
“Change every password.”
“I know.”
“Lauren.”
“I know.”
Torres leaned toward us.
“This is intimidation.”
“Then arrest whoever is doing it,” Conrad said.
“We need evidence.”
Conrad’s jaw flexed.
“What do you need?”
“A mistake.”
Everyone looked at her.
Torres closed the folder.
“Whoever is doing this believes you found something. If we can convince them you found more than you actually did, they may move.”
“You want bait.”
“I want pressure.”
Conrad shook his head.
“Not involving Lauren.”
Torres said, “Agreed.”
“Or Jamie.”
“Obviously.”
I folded my arms.
“Everybody needs to stop discussing me like I’m furniture.”
Conrad looked at me.
“You’re not participating.”
“You don’t decide that.”
“Lauren.”
“No.”
Torres watched us carefully.
I continued.
“If someone accessed my employee file and Jamie’s medical records, I’m already involved.”
“That doesn’t mean you walk deeper into it.”
“No. It means I should understand what’s happening.”
Conrad stepped closer.
“And understanding does not require becoming bait.”
I held his gaze.
“I’m not asking to.”
That ended the argument.
Barely.
The plan was simple.
Conrad would circulate a false internal notice saying auditors had recovered archived server backups proving who approved the illegal transfers.
Only four executives would receive it.
The FBI would watch what happened next.
The notice went out at 8:00 the following morning.
By noon, nothing happened.
At 2:17 p.m., one treasury officer booked a flight to Vancouver.
Torres checked.
Legitimate family emergency.
At 4:40, Nathan Pike called Conrad demanding to know why the company was cooperating with federal investigators.
At 6:05, Everett Sloan vanished.
Conrad stood behind his desk staring at the security report.
“His phone?”
“Off.”
“Car?”
“Left in the garage.”
Torres entered the office.
“We found something else.”
She placed photographs on the desk.
Sloan meeting with a man at a waterfront restaurant.
Conrad recognized him immediately.
“Marcus Vale.”
“Who is he?” I asked.
Conrad’s face became cold.
“Owner of Vale Pacific Logistics. My largest competitor.”
Torres nodded.
“And possibly the person moving money through your subsidiaries.”
Conrad stared at the photographs.
“Everett worked for my father for twenty-two years.”
Arthur Harlow had trusted Sloan.
Conrad had grown up knowing him.
That betrayal hit harder than he admitted.
Then Torres’s phone rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Send it to me.”
She ended the call.
“What?” Conrad demanded.
“They found Sloan’s vehicle.”
“Where?”
“Near Pier 46.”
“Was he there?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“But they found a second phone inside.”
My stomach tightened.
Torres continued.
“It contains photographs of Lauren.”
Conrad’s expression turned lethal.
“And Jamie?”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
Torres stepped toward me.
“Lauren, until Sloan is located, you and Jamie should not return home.”
“I can stay with Briar.”
“No,” Conrad said instantly.
I looked at him.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
“You’re staying somewhere secure.”
“You mean your house.”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“It has controlled access, cameras, and security.”
Torres surprised me.
“He’s right.”
I stared at both of them.
“You two agreeing is deeply unsettling.”
Conrad almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Sloan.”
My heart stopped.
A familiar older voice came through the speaker.
“Conrad.”
Conrad’s face changed.
“Where are you?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“You photographed Lauren’s child.”
“I didn’t.”
“Your phone did.”
Silence.
Then Sloan said, “You need to stop cooperating with the FBI.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand what you’re dealing with.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can’t.”
“Everett.”
Sloan’s breathing became rough.
“Your father started this.”
Conrad went still.
“What did you say?”
“Ask Arthur about Northstar.”
The call ended.
Nobody spoke.
Conrad slowly lowered his phone.
Then he turned toward the door.
I caught his arm.
“Where are you going?”
May you like
“To ask my father why his oldest friend just told me he started a criminal operation.”
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