Chapter 9 - THE MONEY
Marcus left the ballroom under escort.
Not in handcuffs.
Not yet.
Vanessa went with the agents voluntarily.
The gala was officially over, though nobody wanted to leave.
People stood in clusters.
Whispering.
Staring.
Pretending not to stare.
Harrison took me into a private conference room upstairs.
Dana followed.
I sat down.
My hands were shaking now.
Harrison poured water.
“You held up well.”
“I feel sick.”
“That’s normal.”
“I thought I’d feel better.”
“Why?”
“Because he hurt me.”
Harrison sat across from me.
“Watching someone fall isn’t the same as healing.”
I looked at him.
“Did Helen say that?”
“No.”
He smiled faintly.
“That one was mine.”
Dana entered carrying her laptop.
“We have a problem.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course we do.”
She set the laptop down.
“The frozen accounts are smaller than expected.”
“How much smaller?”
“About eleven million.”
Harrison swore.
I leaned forward.
“Where’s the rest?”
“We don’t know.”
Dana opened a spreadsheet.
“Marcus moved money two days ago. Multiple transfers.”
“To where?”
“Offshore.”
Harrison’s face hardened.
“How much?”
“Thirty-one million.”
I stared.
“Company money?”
“Some company money. Some private.”
“Private meaning?”
Dana looked at me.
“Marital assets.”
My stomach dropped.
“How much of mine?”
“We’re determining that.”
I stood.
“No.”
Dana tried to calm me.
“Rebecca—”
“No. He already hid twelve million during the divorce. Now you’re telling me he moved thirty-one?”
Harrison said, “Sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down.”
Then the door opened.
Thomas Avery walked in.
The older board member who had greeted me at the gala.
His expression was grim.
“There’s more.”
I laughed once.
“Of course there is.”
Thomas shut the door.
“Marcus didn’t act alone.”
Harrison narrowed his eyes.
“Vanessa?”
“No.”
Thomas placed a document on the table.
“A board member authorized one of the offshore transfers.”
Dana leaned over.
“Who?”
Thomas didn’t answer.
He looked directly at Harrison.
That was enough.
Harrison stood slowly.
“Who?”
Thomas swallowed.
“Your son.”
The room changed.
Harrison’s face went completely blank.
“Daniel?”
Thomas nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
Harrison grabbed the document.
I watched him read.
His hand started shaking.
Daniel Cole was Harrison’s only son.
He was also the company’s Chief Financial Officer.
Harrison looked twenty years older in ten seconds.
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
Dana started typing.
I looked at the transfer records.
Then I saw a destination account.
Carter Holdings.
My last name.
Not Whitmore.
Carter.
I pointed.
“What is that?”
Dana stopped.
Harrison looked down.
Thomas went pale.
I turned the laptop toward myself.
Carter Holdings LLC.
Registered in Nevada.
Created four months earlier.
Beneficiary:
Rebecca Carter.
I stopped breathing.
“What the hell?”
Dana stared at me.
“This account is in your name.”
“I didn’t create it.”
Harrison looked at me carefully.
“Then someone wants it to look like you did.”
And suddenly I understood.
May you like
Marcus wasn’t just stealing money.
He was building a case that I had stolen it.
