It was night time, most editorial staff had closed. Linda stayed behind. The office was dead silent. Hum of the air conditioning and her restless breathing became pronounced. Linda glued her eyes to her laptop. She scrolled through rows of digital spreadsheets and scanned documents.
Through her investigation she had just stumbled on something more significant and dangerous than what she envisaged initially.
By her side were crumpled papers that bore the initials "C.M.C." Having searched through the archived records of the company, she uncovered small but significant details. Suspiciously, rows of numbers aligned in patterns and discrepancies. These were pointer to funds misappropriation and probably outright embezzlement.
The instinct of Linda told her these couldn't just be petty thefts. They served as pointers to a systematic cover-up which might touch the upper echelon of the organization.
Her investigation had begun a week earlier, when she noticed inconsistencies in the company's quarterly reporting. Revenues that seemed artificially inflated, expenses that vanished into obscure accounts and a series of transfers to offshore accounts she couldn't yet verify. Each new revelation made her stomach tighten. Who else knew about this? How deep did it go?
Her focus sharpened when she stumbled upon a sealed file labeled "Internal Investigation - Rhodes Carter." Her pulse quickened; Rhodes Carter was the charismatic founder and former CEO whose sudden death few weeks ago had made headlines around the city and across the world.
The official pronouncement indicated a cardiac arrest however, Linda's instincts told her something different. The timing appeared suspicious. It coincided with time of critical financial reports plus internal audits.
Was his sudden demise a mere coincidence? Or could it have been orchestrated? If so, why? Could the actual reason be linked to fear of uncovering illicit financial activities? Linda believed some illicit financial deals are deeply buried beneath Carter Media polished facade.
She scrolled further across the digital folders. She found a new theory that chilled her blood. Mr. Carter's sudden death might have been a planned move to get rid of whoever got too close to the truth.
She now suspected that the frauds were a smokescreen for something far darker; a scheme for funds diversion, manipulation of shareholder value, or even hiding something more sinister.
She recalled the conversation she had with her supervisor, John Duvall. Mr. Duvall was famed for his connection and sharp instincts. Subtly, he warned her against digging too deep into the history of Carter estate. He hinted that "unseen forces" might not take such meddling kindly.
Now, as she started examining the sealed audit report of Rhodes Carter's estate, she could feel the heavy weight of scrutiny.
Someone, she was sure, was watching her; every keystroke, every new discovery. Her phone had buzzed twice in the past hour, but when she glanced at the screen, no messages appeared.
Could her employer be involved? Was Carter Media just a front for something else?
The corporate outlook tended to mask a web of deception. Linda reflected on the encrypted files uncovered by her: folders marked as "Top Secret," "Confidential" and "Don't Open." All these were deeply concealed within the server's no-go areas. The few folders she managed to decrypt confirmed her worst fears.
The frauds appeared deliberate. They were fictitious expenses, altered records and phantom employees. Her major source of shock was the numerous redacted papers referencing "Operation Clean Slate." She had not witness such term before.
This appeared to be a pointer to desperate attempt to wipe out any trace of wrongdoing; possibly with regards to Mr. Carter's death. She now hesitated; it had become glaring that she was treading on a path full of danger. A path riddled with booby-traps and landmines.
Rhodes Carter's murder was to serve as a cover up. Exposing it put her at great risk. However, the truth beckoned. It was feeling impossible to ignore.
Suddenly, her phone started vibrating again. There was a faint flicker of worry in her chest. She felt paranoid while glancing around the dim office. Had someone been watching her?
Other offices surrounding editorial department were deserted. Still, worries over unseen eye magnified with every passing minute.
Her thoughts got shattered by a sudden knock on the door. Heart pounding, Linda froze.
She quickly shut the lid of her laptop, hoping she hadn't been too careless. Voice steady, she called out, "Come in." The door opened, revealing Mark Duvall, her supervisor. His face was unreadable, but there was a hint of urgency in his eyes.
"I was looking for you," he said softly, stepping inside. "Can we talk? Somewhere private?"
"Of course," she replied, guards up.
He gestured towards an empty conference room down the hall. Once inside, Mark looked around cautiously before speaking.
"I know you're digging into some sensitive stuff," he started, voice low. "And I want you to stop in your own interest."