More surprisingly, he had known her in high school. Clarence remembered her as the brightest student in their class, but what stayed with him was that she’d treated him kindly when other children mocked his family’s poverty. He told me stories I’d never heard: how she’d challenged a principal’s arithmetic during an assembly, organized a student protest over the cafeteria food, and once confronted a football player for humiliating a girl in the hallway.
Clarence poured me coffee, shared his ham-and-Swiss sandwich, and spoke about Eleanor as though she might walk through the door at any moment. I laughed for the first time in what felt like years.
Several hours later, a black Lincoln pulled up outside, and Tony Reyes stepped from the driver’s seat. Tony had been our first employee, hired in 1989 after returning from military service. Eleanor had liked his honesty, and he’d gone from driving one of our first trucks to becoming senior vice president of operations. He managed the fleet, knew many of our drivers by name, and still called me Mr. B.
Richard had contacted him, and Tony insisted on driving all the way from Cleveland rather than sending a hired car. I thanked Clarence and climbed into the front passenger seat, where Tony and I had once sat during long business journeys. As we drove north, he asked what had happened. I told him about the proposed house transfer, the suggestions that I couldn’t manage my affairs, the cemetery, and Derek’s message.
Tony became quiet. Then, somewhere south of Akron, he pulled onto the shoulder and said he needed to tell me something concerning Derek.
For approximately six months, the operations team had questioned a fuel-supply arrangement Derek had negotiated with a Toledo company called Lakeshore Fuel Supply. The contract covered roughly 200 trucks, but its rates appeared to be about eleven cents a gallon higher than comparable arrangements, costing Bennett Freight an estimated $400,000 more annually.
Tony had raised concerns because Derek continued renewing the contract despite objections from operations. There were also reports of Derek’s personal relationship with Lakeshore’s owner. A young dispatcher had seen him at the owner’s daughter’s wedding, seated prominently and described as a business partner. Tony had reported the concerns to Gloria, who ordered a confidential audit. He hadn’t seen the final report, but it had recently been completed.
I called Gloria from the car. She confirmed that the review had identified approximately $310,000 in payments from Lakeshore to a Delaware limited liability company called DL Consulting Group over fourteen months. The business was associated with Derek’s home address. The payments appeared alongside fuel contracts Derek had overseen, raising serious concerns about undisclosed conflicts of interest and possible improper compensation.
Gloria explained that she had already decided to withdraw her recommendation for his promotion and present the findings to the board. I told her she had done exactly the right thing by investigating rather than overlooking the concern because Derek was my son-in-law.
We agreed that the company needed to follow a documented process: preserve records, review relevant contracts and bank transfers, give Derek an opportunity to respond, and obtain independent advice about any civil or criminal implications. I also told her I intended to return to the company under the voting rights Eleanor and I had preserved.
On the drive home, I looked out at the trucks traveling beside us, some carrying Bennett Freight’s familiar blue-and-white markings and the small red letter B Eleanor had designed years earlier. Derek had wanted my house, insulted my age, and left me at my wife’s grave, but the company’s audit revealed a different concern entirely.
The man who believed I was powerless was about to enter a board meeting expecting a promotion, while the company he hoped to help run was examining evidence that he might have profited personally from its contracts.