Chapter 6: They Had Already Built a Company With My Father's Name
I didn't close the door.
I couldn't.
Naomi stood in the hallway, clutching her handbag, while the words settled into my mind.
"Say that again.""
Her lips trembled.
"Xavier registered a company using your father's name.""
I stepped forward.
"What company?""
"William Walls Safety Technologies.""
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
My father's name.
On a company I had never heard of.
Owned by a man who had never met him.
I stared at Naomi.
"How long?""
"Several months.""
"How many months?""
She looked down.
"About five.""
I gripped the doorframe.
"Five months?""
She nodded.
"Xavier said it was just a temporary business structure. He wanted to have everything ready before the acquisition negotiations.""
I laughed once.
A short, bitter sound.
"Before the acquisition negotiations?""
Naomi wiped her cheek.
"He thought the company name would help establish the history of the technology.""
I stared at her.
"You're telling me he used my father's name to make his business look legitimate?""
She didn't answer.
"Who gave him permission?""
"Nobody.""
"Then why did you help him?""
She looked up.
"Because I thought we were building something.""
I shook my head.
"You were building something. You were building a company around work you didn't own.""
"Cedric, I never wanted to hurt you.""
I looked at her.
"Then why did you?""
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
I stepped aside.
"Go home, Naomi.""
She wiped her eyes.
"Can we talk tomorrow?""
"No.""
"Please.""
I looked directly at her.
"The woman I wanted to marry doesn't exist anymore.""
She flinched.
Then she walked away.
I watched her disappear around the corner.
Only when the elevator doors closed did I shut mine.
I called Rachel immediately.
She answered on the second ring.
"Cedric?""
"Naomi just told me Xavier registered a company using my father's name.""
There was a pause.
"Do you know the exact name?""
"William Walls Safety Technologies.""
Rachel began typing.
"Don't touch anything. I'm checking the corporate records.""
I sat at the kitchen table.
"She said it was registered five months ago.""
"All right.""
A few minutes passed.
Then Rachel spoke again.
"I found it.""
My stomach tightened.
"Is it real?""
"Yes. It's an active limited liability company.""
"Who owns it?""
"Xavier Mitchell appears as the registered manager. The filing lists Naomi Carter as a founding business associate.""
I closed my eyes.
"Can they do that?""
"They can register a company name in many circumstances. That doesn't automatically give them ownership of your father's intellectual property or your invention.""
"Then what does it mean?""
"It means we need to investigate how they are representing the company to potential investors and commercial partners.""
I looked at the old photograph on my desk.
My father's name.
His face.
His legacy.
All of it had been turned into a business opportunity without his family's permission.
Rachel continued.
"There's another filing.""
"What?""
"A preliminary trademark application.""
"For what?""
"William Walls Safety Technologies.""
I rubbed my forehead.
"Can we stop it?""
"We can challenge it if there's a legal basis. But first, I need you to send me everything Naomi gave you.""
I looked at the folded document on the table.
"I have a copy of their agreement.""
"Good. Bring it tomorrow.""
Then Rachel's voice became more serious.
"Cedric, there's something else I found.""
"What?""
"Xavier's company has been listed as the proposed technology partner in an investor presentation.""
I sat upright.
"Investor presentation?""
"Yes. It was distributed to a small group of potential investors.""
"What does it say?""
Rachel paused.
"It describes a patented emergency braking technology developed by William Walls Safety Technologies.""
I stared at the wall.
"That's my design.""
"I know.""
"And they are telling people they own it?""
"That's what the presentation appears to claim.""
I stood.
"Then we need to stop them.""
"We will. But I need you to remain calm and let us handle this properly.""
I looked at the USB drive.
At my father's letter.
At the photograph of the two of us standing outside the repair shop.
"I am calm," I said.
And for the first time, I meant it.
The next morning, Rachel arranged a meeting with Daniel Price from Harrington Mobility Systems.
The meeting took place in a private conference room at Harrington's regional office.
Daniel was in his early forties, with silver at his temples and a serious expression.
He shook my hand.
"Mr. Walls. Good to finally meet you.""
"Thank you for seeing me.""
He gestured toward the chairs.
Rachel sat beside me.
Daniel opened his laptop.
"Our legal department has been reviewing the documents submitted by Xavier Mitchell and Naomi Carter.""
He turned the screen toward us.
A presentation appeared.
The first slide showed a photograph of a commercial truck.
The second showed a diagram of an emergency braking mechanism.
My mechanism.
I recognized the exact configuration.
The same secondary engagement system.
The same pressure-isolation arrangement.
But beneath the diagram was a company logo.
William Walls Safety Technologies.
My father's name.
I felt my jaw tighten.
Daniel clicked to the next slide.
It showed a photograph of a polished metal prototype.
I leaned forward.
"That's mine.""
Rachel looked at me.
"Are you certain?""
"Absolutely.""
Daniel nodded.
"Our engineers compared it with the design submitted through your university. The similarities are substantial.""
"Where did they get that photograph?""
"We believe it came from the prototype Naomi collected from the repair shop.""
I looked at Daniel.
"Did Xavier try to sell you the technology?""
"He proposed a commercial partnership. He claimed his company controlled the intellectual property and offered Harrington exclusive manufacturing rights.""
Rachel opened her folder.
"Did he provide proof of ownership?""
"He submitted the agreement you've already seen, along with several technical documents.""
"Did your legal team verify them?""
"Yes. That's when we became concerned.""
Daniel clicked another slide.
This one contained a financial projection.
The estimated market value was substantial.
I stared at the number.
Then I looked at the proposed ownership distribution.
Xavier Mitchell: 50 percent.
Naomi Carter: 30 percent.
William Walls Safety Technologies: 20 percent.
I frowned.
"Why is my father's name listed as twenty percent?""
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
"That's part of what we couldn't understand.""
Rachel leaned forward.
"Did Xavier claim the company was founded on research originally developed by William Walls?""
"Yes.""
"Did he provide evidence that he owned those rights?""
"He provided an old university agreement and claimed the original contributor had transferred the relevant rights.""
I looked at Rachel.
"Elaine.""
She nodded slowly.
"Probably.""
Daniel closed the presentation.
"We have no intention of proceeding with a transaction unless ownership is established beyond question. However, there is something I think you should know.""
He opened another file.
"This was included in the investor presentation.""
It was a letter.
The letter claimed that my father's original research had been transferred to a private business entity decades earlier.
The date was twenty years old.
The signature at the bottom was my father's.
I leaned closer.
My heart started pounding.
It looked genuine.
Unlike the fake agreements carrying my name, this signature was unmistakably his.
I recognized the way he wrote the W.
The way he connected the final letters.
I stared at it.
"Where did they get this?""
Daniel replied carefully.
"From Elaine Porter.""
Rachel immediately took a photograph.
"Do you have the original?""
"No. We only received a scanned copy.""
I looked at the signature again.
My father had signed something.
But what?
And why had he never told me?
Back at Rachel's office, Michael joined us.
The three of us examined the document.
It appeared to be an assignment agreement between my father and a private company called Northstar Industrial Research.
The agreement described the transfer of certain technical concepts in exchange for compensation.
The payment amount was listed as one dollar.
I stared at it.
"One dollar?""
Michael nodded.
"That's unusual.""
"Was this company real?""
Rachel searched the corporate database.
A few moments later, she found it.
"Northstar Industrial Research was incorporated twenty years ago.""
"Who owned it?""
She opened the registration details.
Then she stopped typing.
"What?""
Rachel looked at Michael.
He leaned closer to the screen.
I felt my pulse quicken.
"Who owned it?""
Rachel turned the laptop toward me.
The registered director was listed as:
*ELAINE PORTER.*
I stared.
"She owned the company?""
"According to this filing, yes.""
Michael examined the assignment agreement again.
"There's something else.""
He pointed to the final paragraph.
It stated that the assignment applied only to the specific research materials identified in an attached schedule.
I looked at the page.
"Where's the schedule?""
Michael flipped through the scanned document.
"It isn't included.""
Rachel nodded.
"Without the attachment, we cannot determine exactly what was transferred.""
I leaned back.
"So Xavier is using an agreement that might not even cover my father's original design.""
"Correct," Michael said.
"And Elaine is the person who owned the company receiving the rights.""
"Correct.""
I rubbed my face.
"Why would my father sign that?""
Rachel closed the file.
"We don't know yet.""
I thought about the video.
My father had been sitting at the kitchen table, speaking directly to me.
He had said to keep my name on my work.
He had said not to sign anything without reading it.
But he had also said something else.
He had made mistakes when he was young.
He had trusted people because they smiled.
Perhaps this was what he had meant.
That afternoon, I returned to the university archive with Dr. Bennett.
The archivist, a woman named Helen, greeted us at the entrance.
"Professor Bennett said you needed access to an old research file.""
"File 18-B," I replied.
She checked her computer.
"That's a restricted archive.""
Dr. Bennett stepped forward.
"I'm requesting access under the university's historical research review process.""
Helen examined the authorization.
Then she nodded.
"Give me a few minutes.""
She disappeared through a security door.
I stood beside Dr. Bennett.
"Do you think my father knew Elaine was involved with Northstar?""
"I don't know.""
"Did you ever see him after the project ended?""
Dr. Bennett looked uncomfortable.
"Once.""
"When?""
"About a year later. He came to campus to ask for copies of the original research records.""
I turned.
"What happened?""
"I wasn't here that day, but I heard there was an argument. Elaine refused to release the documents.""
"Why?""
"She claimed they belonged to the research institution.""
I stared at him.
"Did my father take legal action?""
"No. He couldn't afford it.""
The answer made my chest tighten.
My father had spent years working with his hands.
He probably knew he had been treated unfairly.
But he also knew what it cost to fight people with money.
Helen returned carrying a gray archival box.
"File 18-B.""
She placed it on the table.
Dr. Bennett opened the lid.
Inside were several folders.
The first contained correspondence.
The second contained research photographs.
The third was sealed.
A label read:
*PRIVATE MEMORANDUM — WILLIAM WALLS.*
I carefully opened it.
Inside was a letter dated twenty years earlier.
My father's handwriting covered the page.
I began reading aloud.
To the university research committee:
I agreed to provide technical assistance because I believed this project could prevent serious accidents. I did not agree to transfer ownership of the mechanical concept I developed independently.
My hands began shaking.
I continued.
Ms. Elaine Porter has repeatedly represented the Northstar agreement as a complete assignment of my work. That is not what I signed.
Dr. Bennett leaned closer.
I read the next paragraph.
The original drawings, calculations, and prototype remain my property. I have retained copies of all documents and will not authorize further commercial use without a separate agreement.
I looked up.
"That's it.""
Dr. Bennett nodded.
"Keep reading.""
The final paragraph was shorter.
If these records are ever needed, the original agreement must be examined alongside the attached schedule. Without that schedule, no one can establish which specific materials were transferred.
I turned the page.
There was a list.
Three technical documents.
Two research photographs.
One preliminary testing report.
None of them included the emergency braking mechanism my father had developed independently.
I stared at the page.
"Then the agreement didn't transfer his design.""
Michael's voice came from behind us.
"No. Based on what we're seeing, it may not have.""
I turned.
He had just entered the archive.
He took the document and examined it carefully.
"These records could be extremely important.""
I looked at the letter again.
My father had known.
He had challenged Elaine.
He had preserved evidence.
And somehow, twenty years later, she was using the same agreement to support Xavier's claim.
Then Helen approached with another folder.
"There's one more item in the archive.""
She placed it on the table.
"It was filed under Mr. Walls's name, but it was never included in the original research index.""
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My father stood beside a younger Elaine Porter.
They were outside a manufacturing facility.
Behind them was a large sign.
*NORTHSTAR INDUSTRIAL RESEARCH.*
On the back of the photograph, my father had written:
The day I discovered what they really wanted.
I turned the photograph over again.
Beneath the handwritten note was a date.
And a name.
*XAVIER MITCHELL'S FATHER — ROBERT MITCHELL.*
I stared at the words.
Dr. Bennett leaned over my shoulder.
"That's impossible.""
Michael took the photograph.
He examined it closely.
Then he looked at me.
"Cedric, I think we've just discovered why Xavier is so determined to acquire your invention.""
My throat tightened.
"What do you mean?""
Michael pointed to the photograph.
"His father was involved in Northstar Industrial Research.""
I looked at the old image again.
The man standing beside my father had a familiar face.
The same sharp jawline.
The same confident smile.
The same eyes as Xavier.
Then Michael opened the final document inside the folder.
It was a letter from Northstar's former legal department.
The first sentence made my blood run cold.
Following the death of William Walls, all remaining technical materials connected to the emergency braking research are to be recovered by the Mitchell family.
I looked up.
"My father died before this letter was written.""
Michael nodded.
"Which means someone continued pursuing his work after he was gone.""
I stared at the document.
Then I noticed the signature at the bottom.
Robert Mitchell.
Xavier's father.
And beneath it, a handwritten instruction:
Locate the son. He may have completed what William started.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from Naomi.
Cedric, please don't go after Xavier. You don't know what his family is capable of.
I read it twice.
Another message appeared.
Your father wasn't telling you everything.
I slowly looked up at Rachel.
Then I typed one question.
What exactly do you know about my father, Naomi?
Her reply came almost immediately.
Ask Xavier why his father paid my tuition.
I stared at the screen.
My stomach dropped.
Naomi's doctorate.
My father's research.
Xavier's family.
And the ninety-one thousand, four hundred dollars I had sacrificed to keep her in school.
Suddenly, I wasn't sure the betrayal had begun on graduation day.
May you like
I wasn't even sure it had begun seven years earlier.
Because if Xavier's father had been paying Naomi's tuition, then someone had been planning this long before I ever opened that velvet ring box.
