Chapter 11

Merrick Langston had skeletons. I just didn’t expect them to still be bleeding. The flash drive I found in my father’s desk contained more than boardroom numbers and dusty contracts. It had a folder labeled “Personal: Langston.” Inside—confidential emails, off-record payments, timestamps that placed him at the Voss estate the night before my father “collapsed.” Emails that read: “The documents will be moved tonight. She can’t inherit if there’s nothing left to inherit.” “You’ll...