Chapter 50
Dixie
Marchant Haulage’s headquarters loomed over Deadwater Harbour, an ugly brownstone building many decades old. I’d once sat in a café on the opposite bank and watched our grandfather roll up, heartbroken that I couldn’t go talk to him.
Today, I was here to carry out his legacy.
Tyler slowed the car and peered forward. “There’s a crowd. Reporters. Plain clothes cops, too.”
I squinted at the thick body of people around the front doors. Some held banners with slogans about violence to women. “How can you tell the police?”
“Normal people chat to their companions or look at their phone. Cops watch people. They maintain sightlines. Plus they dress to blend in but usually fail. Shoes are a good bet.”
I pursed my lips and considered the individuals acting solo at the edges of the pack. “The guy in the black trainers?”
He smiled. “That’s one. They don’t go with his outfit but are good for chasing. Look now at body language. Anyone with their right hand loose and ready to go.”
“The woman with the high-waisted jeans? Her jacket is a bad match and she’s also in running shoes.”
“Got her.”
I shrank down, nerves crawling through me and fighting to take control. “What if they’re here to arrest me?”
“On what grounds?”
I flailed an arm. “I saw someone killed last night. What if someone told them it was me?”
Tyler didn’t laugh at me or tell me I was nuts. He only rolled a self-assured look my way. “They won’t.”
Okay, then.
Nothing about this felt good, despite my intentions. I’d wanted to walk in there with my head held high, but with the way I felt right now, I’d more likely need to be carried.
A figure appeared on the pavement and waved. Convict, signalling a spot for Tyler to park in. He backed into it, the car facing the right way for a quick escape.
I was starting to think like a gangster.
Mila stepped out of the car next door and climbed into ours. She leaned between our seats. “This is vile. We have to walk through that.”
I clamped my hands between my thighs. “Why couldn’t this be done remotely?”
“The management board all get to witness it. If the vote goes ahead, the business is immediately operational again, even if under police investigation, and all the staff who’ve waited months for pay or redundancy payouts can celebrate. It’s a huge deal.”
“I wish I hadn’t known that.”
She pulled a face. “Sorry.”
“Not for you to say that, sis.”
My sister sighed. “Don’t go looking for yourself online today either.”
“Too late.” I’d made the mistake this morning of checking the articles about the Marchants.
More about me had arisen.
“They said I’m a victim of the company, or a ringleader who doesn’t think that women should be respected because of what men had done to me.”
Mila winced. “One jackass said that the two of us run the sex workers in the city now and that Kane is our pimp. There was something new from the woman who lost her cousin. She’s changed her tune since your name appeared. She’s urging caution in the judgement. I wonder if she’s here.”
In my side mirror, a huge figure strode to our car. Kane waited outside, sunglasses on, his expression sour. It had been ever since he’d heard all Primrose and the others had revealed last night. He wanted this over and done with as much as the rest of us.
Tyler reached for my hand. “Ready to go inside?”
Not a tiny bit. The breakfast I hadn’t eaten wanted back out. I nodded all the same.
The scent of the river water mixed with exhaust fumes, and the crowd noise outside the building bombarded me. Kane paced ahead, blocking us, and Convict and Tyler braced us either side. Mila’s hand snuck around mine.
“Darcy, can you tell us how it feels to be here since your nude pics went live?” a reporter shouted.
From her phone held on a stick, I guessed her to be a social media person. What a dick. She was referencing pictures of me stripping that I’d noticed earlier but barely glanced at. I looked hot. I didn’t care about those. If they were going to ruin my life, at least they’d picked a good angle.
“Darcy, did your grandfather sell you into sexual slavery?” a man crowed.
This time, I flinched. Tyler shielded me and propelled me past security.
Inside, a woman at a reception desk with the company name in big red letters took our details.
“Good to see you again, Bailee,” Mila said.
The woman smiled. “It’s odd, but I was so glad they asked me to return today for this. I’ve missed the place.” Her grin faltered. “Even after everything that’s come out.”
Mila offered sad agreement, and we carried on.
As we walked, she leaned in to me. “Convict and I broke into this place to access the family vault. It’s where we spotted someone stealing your file.
Do you think it was Presley? We’re so sure he was behind lots of things.
Hanging around Primrose. Con is certain he saw his car in Leith before the explosion, too. ”
“It was,” a quavering voice answered her from behind.
Primrose emerged from a side room, smart in a white suit, her silver hair shining.
“When he woke up last night, he and Wallace had a slanging match. It was quite beneath them. Apparently Presley took that file and broke the lock so no one else could find you and steal their thunder. He blew up that boat on the harbour to hide his parents’ crimes.
I believe he was trying to prove to me how clever he was so I should let him help me now Denise has gone.
I sent him away with a flea in his ear.”
Mila and I swapped a startled look.
“You’re here,” she spluttered.
“Where else would I be?”
“But… Where’s Presley now?”
Our grandmother smiled enigmatically and proceeded into a conference room, taking a seat next to Wallace.
I stared at him. Both here, even with the police outside. I’d expected… I wasn’t sure what. Something else.
“I was certain she’d be arrested by now,” Mila side-mouthed. “Or have run away to a tropical island.” She followed her inside.
I stalled at the door. It was packed. One space left at the table with my brother and sister in their seats, but wall-to-wall relatives and smart-suited executives around it. There had to be fifty people crammed into the room.
Tyler turned me to face him. “You’ve got this.”
“Sure about that?”
“You’re the strongest woman I ever met. You can do anything.”
“What if I throw up on that polished table?”
“Then they’ll be distracted from the vote.”
I sucked in a deep breath, turned, and marched in.
Just like outside, the babble of noise increased.
At the head of the table, Cochran, the solicitor, stood and peered over his small glasses. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here to carry out the formal voting on the future of Marchant Haulage. The vote is sacrosanct, meaning it cannot be reversed when done.”
He continued but my brain fuzzed. To my left, Mila once again took my hand. I peeked at her then at Kane on my right. He nudged me with his shoulder. I sensed Tyler at my back and let the world filter back in. I could do this. I wouldn’t fail.
“We’ve waited months for this,” a woman shouted over Cochran, interrupting his speech. “My money was cut off without warning. I’ve had to go without.”
Kane snorted. “Ye lived off blood money and you’re complaining it stopped?”
She stared daggers at him.
He gazed right back. “Could’ve stood on your own two feet or done anything but be a leech to a business that sold women. How can ye stand there and argue for more when every penny ye spent came from someone else’s pain?”
The woman gawped.
Kane swung out at arm. “That goes for the rest of ye parasites who queued up to take Austin’s money. A handful needed real support. The rest of ye should be ashamed.”
He folded his arms. A quiet cheer broke out.
Cochran blinked. “Indeed. Without further delay, let’s commence with the vote. Will the five voters please stand.”
We did. I locked my knees.
He bobbed his head. “I will name each of you in turn and you shall say open if you wish Marchant Haulage to persist in operating, or close if not. Primrose Marchant.”
“Close,” our grandmother pronounced.
A groan came from around the table.
“Kane Ryan.”
“Close.”
No surprise there. Kane had suffered no regrets over selling his vote. I respected him for that.
Cochran made a note. “Wallace Marchant.”
Our uncle puffed out his chest. “Open. I intend to do great—”
Cochran spoke over him. “Emilia Marchant.”
Mila’s fingers squeezed mine, and her voice came out clear. “Open.”
Oh God, I was last. And the deciding voter.
Nerves crushed my belly tight, and every face watched mine.
The consequences flew around in my head in a rush of white noise, but I’d already decided.
I’d known at witnessing the passion in my sister when she talked about the good the company did.
How well she knew it and what it could do in exchange for a second lease of life.
Good would always overcome evil. I’d seen that with my own eyes.
“Open,” I told them.
A cheer came from the family members.
Mila’s lips parted. She stared at me. “You did that…”
“For you? Yes. But also so we can make it pay back.”
She covered her mouth, shock in her eyes but happiness too. I didn’t look at the grandmother we’d acted against.
Cochran made his final note. “Then our business here is concluded. In accordance with Austin’s wishes, Darcy, Emilia, and Wallace now own and may direct Marchant Haulage as they see fit, subject to the usual legalities.”
Wallace raised a hand. “What legalities?”
Cochran spared a glance at Primrose then back to her son. “Should any of the three be imprisoned, they forfeit all rights.”
Wallace huffed and left his seat, merging with the stream of people leaving the room. We fell in with the mass, Tyler’s arm around my shoulders. I kept him close, nervous again for what I needed to do next.
Outside, Wallace stepped up to the centre of the waiting journalists. Cameras rattled with pictures taken and people shouted questions.
He made a simmer-down gesture with his hands. “Now, now, wait for me to speak then ask your questions. I am very glad to tell you that I have saved my father’s business. Today, we voted successfully—”
The two plain-clothed police officers moved in on him, each taking an arm and rumpling his brown suit.
Wallace swung his attention between them. “Excuse me.”
“Mr Wallace Marchant, I am placing you under arrest for the suspicion of murder,” the male officer said. “You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned…”
Wallace blustered. “You can’t do this! I am innocent. Release me at once.”
They dragged him away, the cameras picking up his contorted expression. His protests and yelling.
Mila stared wide-eyed after them. “They picked their moment. That actually makes sense because then the company is out of deadlock so there’s no messy legal situation. Then that leaves you and me to run the company.” She peered around. “But where’s Primrose?”
She hadn’t come out. I hadn’t noticed her leave.
The police would be looking for her for sure. I didn’t know if I wanted them to find her.
Deeper in the crowd, a familiar face leaned to talk to another man. Lovelyn, Manny and another crew member guarding her. Kane went straight to her side, his glare on the man she spoke to who had to be her detective contact.
She sought me out and lifted her eyebrows.
I raised a pausing finger. I had to do this now or I never would.
Stepping forward, I gathered the attention of the assembly. “My name is Dixie. You might know me as Darcy Marchant. Not a name I use anymore.”
Every microphone swung my way. Cameras snapped my face.
I forced calm to the surface. “Today, the company our grandfather built died. I know that’s confusing with what Wallace said. He’s wrong that Marchant Haulage can ever return to what it was. It can’t and shouldn’t.”
Mila leaned in to me. “Lovelyn’s detective said not to say anything that might prejudice a court case.”
Well shit. Bang went half of my speech.
I pushed on with the rest. “I voted to keep it, not because I want anything to do with it, but for what it can change to be. For a girl like me, who many of you guys already know.” I gave them a wink.
“Yes, I used to be a sex worker. No, I’m not ashamed of who I am.
No girl should be shamed for what she has to do to survive. ”
A group of women clapped. I pushed on.
“The people who should be ashamed are those who caused pain. The men who were the recipients of any wrongdoing and those who ran it.” I eyed Lovelyn. “What happened here will come out. Properly. In court.”
She rolled her eyes. I grinned.
“A debt is owed to a great many women, some of whom we might never know their names. But here’s some we do.
” I took up my phone and read out the list of the four who’d died on the Eden.
“I hold in my heart everyone who suffered and their families too. Women didn’t do this.
Rich men did. We should place the blame at the right door.
Not my sister, not my grandmother, and you can kiss my ass if you try it with me.
Let’s just say that once any court cases are settled and guilty people jailed, I can see a reimagined company.
One managed by women and that puts all its profits into supporting women.
Every single penny. Doesn’t that sound better to make it pay? ”
Questions followed, shouted.
“What?” I cupped my ear. “You want me to name names? Do the work yourselves. Uncover them. Expose the ones you know. Otherwise let the police do their jobs.”
The chorus got louder. My name. Mila’s.
I smiled at her.
We walked away from what it had been, already discussing what it would become.