She hadn’t changed anything, but had her lack of focus during her time of grief allowed this to happen? The armor wasn’t made overnight. Someone had come up with this plan, introduced the cheaper materials, gotten them past testing and shipped the defective armor. At least some of that must have happened while her father was still here. But probably not all of it. Had she missed something she should have caught? Been so preoccupied trying to prove that she was worthy of being CEO even after her father’s death that she’d missed what really mattered?
Leila stared at the loading area at the back of their facility where they packed boxes of armor into trucks that delivered them to military installations. It was empty now, with no new deliveries scheduled until next week.
Even those were unlikely to go out. Her employees didn’t know it yet, but unless they found out who was responsible fast, she doubted the military would want this shipment—or any other. The fact was, even if they did resolve it, the incident could be the end of her company. The end of everything her dad had worked for.
Focus, Leila reminded herself, looking around. The loading area was hidden from the road, but visible from some of the windows at the back of the building, where they kept supplies. It was a quiet area. Not many people were there on any given day, but it didn’t mean someone couldn’t be. If someone had loaded defective products after hours to avoid detection, how would that work? Drivers wouldn’t have a way to order cheaper materials to replace the good armor, and the people who loaded the trucks didn’t have access to secure areas.
Theresa’s research and development rooms were back here, too. There were no windows in Theresa’s dedicated development space, but she was always wandering around; she claimed that pacing made her more creative. She often worked late. So, planning to have a truck come after hours on a certain day was dicey, too. Unless Theresa was involved.
Normally someone in a management position signed off on shipments. So, someone must have signed off on either the defective armor or good armor that had later been swapped. But if it had been swapped out, why? Was someone after the good armor rather than the money?
She pondered that for a few minutes. It didn’t seem likely, but she couldn’t rule it out. Maybe whoever had signed off on the defective armor was working with someone in shipping.
The potential lead gave her energy, lifted some of the anxiety pressing on her chest. She swiped her security card to go back inside and slipped into the empty testing room. Then she pulled up the shipment log from the computer there. The date was the first thing that surprised her. The armor hadn’t gone out after her dad had died, when she was lost in her grief and had possibly made unforgiveable errors. It had happened before.
But it was the name in the log that made her sink back into the chair Theresa usually used.
Her father’s name was beside the shipment.
Technically, as their primary consultant, he could still do that. But he rarely did, usually preferring to leave it to one of their management team.
Had he done a sloppy job of inspecting the armor? Or had the fakes been good enough to pass inspection? They’d certainly looked right in the photo Davis had shown her. Leila knew her company’s products well enough to spot even small imperfections. Someone had done a good job of making them look legit.
Leila leaned close to the screen, scrutinizing the electronic copy of the signature. Could it have been faked? Her dad’s signature was sloppy, probably easy to duplicate. It was impossible to know for sure.
“What’s going on, honey?”
Leila spun in her chair at her uncle’s voice. He was frowning at her with concern.
“You look upset. And we don’t have any shipments going out for a week.” He glanced around, then added, “I know you’re not back here to shoot the breeze with Theresa. So what’s going on?”
Had Theresa really betrayed them? The idea left a sour taste in the back of her mouth, but it just felt wrong. Theresa was protective of the company, proud to the point of braggadocio of the armor she helped develop, rightfully so. The latest incarnation had been tested by army rangers in real battle conditions before the military had begun ordering them in bulk. They’d stood up to everything the Special Operations soldiers encountered, which was no small feat.
Theresa was unmarried, had no kids. She spoke occasionally of an older sister and a nephew, and every so often of a man she was seeing, something that had been on-again, off-again for years. But the latter always seemed more casual than a real relationship. Her life was the company. Even if Theresa was in the most likely position to betray it, Leila just couldn’t imagine her doing so.
But if she had, why now? If it was anger over Leila being given the CEO position, Theresa had had a full year to take action. Or she could have quit and used her talents elsewhere. That would have been the easiest path if she was unhappy. Instead, she’d stayed, continued to innovate for Petrov Armor. Leila had continued to give her well-deserved raises.
“Leila?” her uncle Joel asked, stepping closer and putting his hand on her arm.
She blinked his face into focus and felt a bittersweet smile form. He looked so much like her dad.
She wasn’t supposed to tell anyone what was really going on. It was part of her agreement with Davis. But it wasn’t as if he was holding up his end of the bargain and keeping her in the loop. And her uncle was the last person who’d ever betray her father’s legacy.
“Uncle Joel, there’s something—”
“Leila.”
Davis’s voice, firm and laced with anger, startled her. She glanced toward the long hallway that led from the main part of the office
