Chapter 25
Jo woke the next morning to the sound of someone knocking on the bedroom door. She stretched and yawned and gently nudged Alex to wake up as Agent Michaels entered the room carrying a tray. She had bowls of chopped fruit, muffins, pastries and steaming mugs of hot chocolate.
“Miss Becker, I apologize for last night,” Michaels began.
Jo shook her head and put her hand up to stop her. “No, Michaels. This woman would have found me one way or another. It worked out well, let’s just forget about it,” Jo implored her.
“It will never happen again,” Michaels promised.
Jo smiled. “I’m sure it won’t. Thank you for the breakfast.”
Michaels nodded and left the room, after informing them that Tammy was waiting for Jo in the dining room.
Jo gingerly touched the gauze covering her temple. The spot was tender but she would live. She had Alex to thank for that.
“Don’t be getting all mushy on me today, Jo. We have a big day ahead of us,” Alex warned her as Jo got teary-eyed remembering the night before.
Jo laughed and nodded. “Okay. First thing on the agenda is to get rid of Tammy. I’m sure she’s a nice person; I just don’t feel right having her on my doorstep every time I wake up. Between her and all the security, I feel like my privacy is gone.”
“So let’s eat then go have a talk with her,” Alex suggested.
They quickly devoured the meal and Alex ran into Jo’s room to get her some clothes. Jo found it difficult to shower without getting her bandage wet, and ended up holding a bath towel on the side of her face. The girls dressed carefully but rapidly, and Alex changed the dressing on Jo’s wound with the items the paramedics had left for them.
It was half past eight when Jo and Alex emerged in business attire, ready for the day. Tammy rose to meet her as Jo entered the dining room, but Jo just waved her back.
“Tammy, hi. I need to talk to you, have a seat.” Jo sat in a chair across from Tammy. “I seem to recall Director Johnson telling me that you are my temporary assistant. I have found my permanent assistant and was hoping you could train her. She’s quite new but willing to learn.”
Tammy gave a huge sigh of relief. “Miss Becker, I would be thrilled to train your assistant. I have been a nervous wreck since Director Johnson assigned me to help you. The thought of all the parties and social obligations you will be having just overwhelmed me. I don’t have the money to buy the dresses I would need to attend the parties, or the patience to deal with the endless line of business dinners your assistant will attend with you. As much as I enjoyed the opportunity, I believe my fear and dread were winning my personal battle.” Tammy laughed. “So, yes, bring on your assistant. I will show her everything she needs to know to make you a success in New York, Miss Becker.”
Jo herself was relieved, and she saw that Alex was too. Neither of them wanted the responsibility of someone losing their job, and this was a surprising ending to the interview. “Alex is going to be my assistant.” Alex gave a brief overview of her work at the travel agency, and mentioned the phone and software purchased last night.
Tammy smiled at them. “You will be great, Miss Turner, and the fact that you know each other so well will really work in your favor. You will be able to determine instantly which phone calls to return, which charity dinners to attend, which social events Miss Becker would most likely be interested in.”
There wasn’t much more discussion, and Tammy left for the corporate office. Alex would follow them around this week, and Tammy would show her everything she could possibly need to know.
Brad entered the dining room when Tammy left. He had just returned from his penthouse after showering and changing.
“Jo, before we go to the meeting today, I want to update you a bit on your company.” He went into some of the details about the current stock price, the total shares of stock, how much of them Jo held, and other financial details. He discussed the markets, the loans BeckFord gave to overseas firms, and some other general knowledge about Mr. Hartford.
“I found out most of this information by searching your company website, Jo. You should browse it as soon as you get a chance. It might help familiarize you to your company.”
“That’s a good idea. I should have thought of that,” Jo responded. Then she looked up at him. “Brad, we have a good forty minutes before we have to leave. I was wondering if you could make out a basic will, just so I feel better about leaving the apartment,” she asked him.
Brad seemed surprised. “We can certainly do that, Jo, but it’s not something you want to do lightly. There is a lot of money at stake.”
“I understand that, but I also know that if I die today, the money goes back to the shareholders, which gives them motive for wanting me dead. I don’t want to start working at BeckFord wondering which person sitting on the Board wants me dead. If I leave a will, then my death does nothing for them.”
Brad sighed. “You are right about that, Jo, but I hope you know a will is serious.”
Jo touched the gauze bandage on the side of her head. “I know it is.”
He nodded, and sat down. He took a legal pad from his briefcase and started writing.
“If you were to die in the next day or so, how would you want your assets divided?” he asked her.
“Equally between Charlie and Alex. Down the middle,” Jo answered without hesitation.
Brad looked up at her astonished. “Charlie? You want to give your money to Charlie?” he asked incredulously.
“And Alex, equally,” she told him again. She was puzzled at his response.
He stared at her for a few seconds until she finally asked him, “What’s wrong?”
He shook himself as if waking from a bad dream. “Oh, not much. I was just imagining Charlie with $70 billion dollars, let loose in New York.” He grimaced. “It was not a pretty sight.”
Alex and Jo laughed at that. He was right, that would be harsh.
He wrote down what Jo said verbatim, then called in Roberts and Michaels, who were in the living room, to be witnesses. He had her sign and date, and then had them do the same.
“I will make up something more official later, but this will work if something happens in the next few hours.”
“It won’t,” Roberts boldly pronounced.
Jo went into her bedroom to retrieve her purse. She softly walked over to the bed and touched the holes in the headboard and the wall. It was still very frightening, and she was startled when she heard a voice.
“It will be gone by the time you return, Miss Becker,” Roberts announced.
Jo looked up at him and smiled. She grabbed her purse and allowed herself to be escorted with Alex and Brad down to the waiting limo.
When the new head of BeckFord Financial Corporation emerged from the elevator on the executive floor, she was calm and poised. With the exception of an inch square bandage at her temple, she looked the part of the professional she was to become.
“Good morning, Miss Becker,” Mr. Sherman greeted her. He led her to a seat at the end of the conference table. Jo introduced her lawyer and personal assistant to the group, and then Alex and Brad took chairs around the perimeter of the room. There were other assistants and businessmen as well, but all the Board Members were present and seated at the conference table.
“Before we begin, I would like to say how glad I am that you are here with us, Miss Becker, considering how close we came to losing you last night. The police have assured me that the woman who tried to kill you is in custody. Director Johnson tells me that this is the same person who hired an assassin and burnt down your home in California.”
Jo nodded. “The security team believes the threat to be contained, for which I am grateful.”
The CEO, Mr. Sherman went into some boring details about the price of stocks, some information about several of their branches, and updates on various projects that Jo was oblivious to. He tried to explain as much as possible any time he saw a blank expression on her face. She was intelligent, though, and could pick up most things very quickly. She took notes, and asked intelligent questions. She gained the respect of many people in the room that day. Some were still hold-outs, but her obvious interest in the well-being of the company as a whole made several of the undecided Board Members resolve to give their new boss a chance to prove herself.
The meeting lasted until almost noon. Once Mr. Sherman concluded the day’s business, he offered to give her a tour of the headquarters, and a little of the history of the company. She gladly accepted, and was surprised when the rest of the Board came with them.
The main headquarters building had been purchased at the same time the company was founded, over eighteen years earlier. It had been a bank, Mr. Sherman told her, and so turning it into a Finance Center was not a huge stretch.
He took her to a large corner office on the executive floor where the conference room was. “This is your office, Miss Becker,” he told her. She was amazed by the elegance of the room. It was furnished with a deep, comfortable office chair, beautiful desk and, bookcases. It was very tasteful and business like. There was a room connecting to it that also belonged to her. Mr. Sherman suggested her lawyer could use that room. Her office had a reception area as well, that Alex would occupy. Overall, she was quite pleased with her small corner of the world. Brad and Alex were also both delighted with their respective workspaces.
Mr. Sherman escorted the group to the other offices on the floor, an office for each of the board members. Then he took the group to one of the middle floors at random, and let her see the hub of activity. She listened in as one young man gave advice to a client regarding his stock portfolio. On the other side of the room, she watched a woman doing a loan interview.
The tour ended at the bottom floor, where the original bank operated. They still had limited banking services; check cashing and transfers between accounts, currency exchange, new accounts, things like that. The lobby was elegant. Jo imagined that it was mostly high-end clients that used the services her company offered.
Jo noticed a large vault behind the counter behind a locked gate. When she asked what it was, Mr. Sherman explained that it was the original safety deposit box system that the old bank utilized. “We haven’t implemented that part of banking. Most of our business is electronic. We don’t see the actual cash or goods that changes hands, like you might at a regular bank. Once in a while for a particularly special client, we rent out the safety deposit boxes.”
“Can I see inside the vault? I’ve always wondered what the inside of a vault looked like.”
Mr. Sherman smiled indulgently. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
Mr. Cline stepped forward. “I can open it for you, Miss Becker. Just give me a moment to find someone with the right keys.”
While Mr. Cline went to find the floor manager, Mr. Sherman told Jo more about what he knew of the history of BeckFord. The only employee that had actually met her father, Joseph Becker, was one of the Security Guards who worked the lobby, and he was called over. Jo asked him to tell her anything he could remember, and the older man indulged her all he could.
“He was a real gentleman, that Mr. Becker. He never was snobbish to me, not like Mr. Hartford was. He always shook my hand every time he entered or exited the building.”
Jo smiled at him and shook his hand. “Thank you for telling me that.”
Mr. Cline returned with another man and the huge vault was opened. Jo expected to see hundreds of shiny boxes lining walls in a well-lit room, but it looked more like a post office box set up. Most of the boxes were small, some were larger.
“We have a few clients who use this currently?” she asked curiously.
“Not right now,” the floor manager told her. “These are rather antiquated. The only real security is the vault door itself, so we encourage our clients to place their valuables in a regular bank, and place their cash with us.” He smiled and a few people chuckled.
“The newer banks have fingerprint recognition or pass codes, things like that. All these take are keys, one key per box.”
“It seems a shame to have all this unused space. Why didn’t you ever just tear it down or do something else?”
The floor manager walked over to the first row of boxes. “Because of these right here. These first three boxes were registered to Mr. Hartford himself, and no one ever dared suggest to him that we get rid of the space. He seemed rather sentimental about them, I believe, so numbers 101, 102, and 103 saved this old vault for posterity.”
“Now that he’s gone, did someone go through the boxes?” Brad asked.
“We considered it, and now that the owner of the boxes is present - that would be you Miss Becker - you can request that we get a locksmith here.”
Alex grabbed Jo’s arm excitedly. “Jo, did you hear the numbers of the boxes?”
“Yes,” Jo answered, puzzled. “What about them?”
“Remember the small round tin that we found in the fire?”
Jo’s eyes lit up, excited. “The keys! This could be the boxes that the keys open!”
Jo unzipped her purse and begun digging around in it. Brad asked Alex, “What keys does Jo have?”
Alex explained to everyone about the small tin box with the note from Jo’s father to her mother, and the two keys with the note. Just as she finished, Jo produced them from her purse. “Found them!” she held them out excitedly to Brad.
Mr. Cline reached for them, “May I?” Jo nodded and Brad handed them over. “They do look like our keys, don’t they?” he asked the floor manager. A few of the other long-time employees also wanted to look, and commented that they did indeed appear to be keys just like those that would open the security deposit boxes.
Exasperated, Alex yelled, “Just try it, already! Open the box!”
Mr. Cline looked at Jo again, asking for permission. She nodded, grinning ear to ear. She was excited to see if there was anything from her father in there.
Mr. Cline used the key marked 102 into the matching box, and it fit perfectly. The lock gave way immediately and the door opened. He slid out a long, thin box, and laid it on a table in the room.
“Moment of truth,” Jo said to Alex as she lifted the lid. Nine board members, some floor employees, Jo’s security team, Alex and Brad all watched as she pulled several documents from the metal container. The very top one was her father’s will. “He did leave a will,” she voiced softly. “He didn’t forget us.” She handed the will to her lawyer.
She pulled out letters from her mother to her father, things he obviously considered precious. She pulled out a photo of the three of them, and gasped. It was the same photo that had hung on their living room wall all the years she was growing up that she was so devastated to lose in the fire. She hugged the photo to her chest, unable to hold back the tears.
There were small keepsakes and mementos that he had dumped into the box in haste it seemed, and meant to retrieve later. Mr. Cline put the next metal box down on the table, box number 103. She opened that lid revealing business documents, including the original contract that formed BeckFord Financial Corporation. The rest of them she didn’t understand, and asked Brad to look into them.
Jo looked up to find Mr. Sherman, to thank him for the tour. It had meant more than he could know, finding these things of her fathers. She instead met the sorrowful glances of Mr. Fitzgerald and Mr. Lawrence. Both gentlemen were acting as if they wanted to speak.
“What is it, Mr. Fitzgerald?” Jo asked the unhappy man.
“Miss Becker, I must apologize. All these years I believed the stories Mr. Hartford told me, that Mr. Becker was a fake name and that Mr. Hartford was the sole owner and creator of this great company. When Mr. Becker’s child suddenly showed up after Mr. Hartford’s death, I assumed it was a hoax. I doubted your claim from the day that I was told of it, Miss Becker. I was very wrong, and I beg your forgiveness.” The gentleman finished his apology and dropped his gaze.
“I was given the same stories, Miss Becker, and I too believed them. There was never any evidence whatsoever that Mr. Becker had ever existed. I am sorry that you were not given the opportunity to grow up with wealth and riches,” Mr. Lawrence told her.
“Nonsense, you old fuddy-duddies,” Ms. Grant, one of the Board Members interrupted. “Miss Becker grew up loved and that’s more than money can buy. Sure she missed a party or two, but if you consider today’s youth, she is much better off for it. The rich teenagers of the modern world are wild and uncontrollable. I don’t believe you would be the caring, intelligent person you are today if you had grown up differently, Miss Becker. I look forward to watching you blossom into womanhood with the strong, moral background you got. Your daddy picked a good woman to raise you, and I will be proud to work under you, Miss Becker.”
Jo was speechless. Not only had she finally gotten grudging acceptance from the last two Board Members, she got a glowing character reference from another. These boxes were amazing!
Jo thanked Ms. Grant, and turned to her lawyer. “Can you do whatever you need to do to get the first box open? I’m not sure if it was my father’s or Mr. Hartford’s, but either way, they won’t need them anymore,” Jo requested with a smile.
“Well, I must say, Miss Becker that was the best tour I have ever given of these facilities.” Mr. Sherman told her. Laughter filled the air as the group bid her goodbye and went their separate ways for lunch.
Roberts and Diaz escorted Jo and Alex to the waiting limousine. Jo looked up at the tall, elegant building as they pulled away. It no longer seemed imposing or unfriendly. The building, like the people who worked in it, now welcomed Jo to New York. Although she had lost her mother, had her house burn down, and been shot at all within the past two weeks, she considered herself very fortunate. She watched the sun’s rays bounce off the buildings of New York City, and realized she was home.