Chapter 2 - THE MONEY WASN’T MINE
I wasn't free.
That was the first thing Christopher’s attorney made clear.
The emergency order suspended my transfer into prison custody while new evidence was reviewed.
It didn't erase my conviction.
It didn't clear my name.
It gave us time.
Sometimes time is more dangerous than freedom.
Twenty minutes later, I sat beside Christopher in the back of a black SUV.
Neither of us spoke.
Phoenix slipped past the tinted windows.
My wrists were red where the cuffs had been.
Christopher noticed.
His jaw tightened.
“Did Chad ever hit you?”
The question surprised me.
“No.”
“Threaten you?”
“Not directly.”
My father looked out the window.
“Men don’t need fists to destroy women.”
Eight years had passed since I had sat this close to him.
My mother, Evelyn, had spent most of my childhood teaching me that Christopher was selfish, manipulative, and dangerous.
She said he had abandoned us.
When I turned eighteen, Christopher reached out.
My mother discovered it.
She made me choose.
Her or him.
At eighteen, you think family choices are permanent.
At forty, you realize sometimes you chose the wrong person.
I swallowed.
“Did Harold call you?”
“Yes.”
“You believed him immediately?”
“He mentioned Harrington.”
The Harrington investment vehicle had been created years earlier.
Private.
Quiet.
Nearly impossible to trace back to Christopher without access to internal documents.
Only a handful of people knew.
“I think Chad stole almost two million dollars from my company,” I said.
Christopher slowly shook his head.
“No.”
“What?”
“He didn't steal from your company.”
I stared at him.
“Dad, the prosecution literally traced—”
“The company was only the path.”
He turned toward me.
“The stolen funds originated from a private investment entity I control.”
My mouth went dry.
“He stole from you?”
“Yes.”
“Does Chad know?”
“No.”
For the first time that day, Christopher smiled.
There was no warmth in it.
“That is one of his bigger mistakes.”
I should have felt relief.
Instead, fear crawled across my skin.
Christopher had never been an ordinary wealthy businessman.
People didn't raise their voices around him.
Banks returned his calls in minutes.
Mayors attended his openings.
Men who laughed at lawsuits became quiet when his attorneys arrived.
“What are you going to do?”
“First? Prove you didn’t steal the money.”
“And then?”
“Then I’m going to find out who thought using my daughter as a disposable shield was a reasonable business decision.”
Before I could answer, he opened a leather folder.
“There’s more.”
He handed me a copy of a legal document.
Power of attorney.
My name was typed across the top.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
It looked almost perfect.
Almost.
“I didn't sign this.”
“I know.”
“What is it?”
“The authority used to sell your townhouse three weeks ago.”
I froze.
“That’s impossible.”
“It happened.”
“Toby lives there.”
“I know.”
“Chad sold my house?”
Christopher’s face hardened.
“Not exactly.”
I looked down at the document.
“Who bought it?”
He hesitated.
That scared me more than his anger.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
I looked up sharply.
“Evelyn bought my townhouse?”
“For substantially less than market value.”
My heart started pounding.
“That makes no sense.”
Christopher leaned back.
“Doesn’t it?”
Images flashed through my mind.
My mother sitting in court every day.
My mother telling reporters she was heartbroken.
My mother testifying that I had always been “ambitious about money.”
My mother refusing to meet my eyes after the guilty verdict.
I had told myself she was ashamed.
What if she had been hiding something?
“Why would she do that?”
“That’s what we need to discover.”
My phone had been held as evidence, so Christopher handed me a temporary one.
It started ringing before I could ask another question.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a child whispered.
“Mommy?”
I stopped breathing.
“Toby?”
“Mommy, where are you?”
My eyes filled instantly.
“I’m here, baby.”
“Daddy said you went away because you stole money.”
Christopher turned toward me.
I closed my eyes.
“I didn't, Toby.”
“I know.”
My throat tightened.
“How do you know?”
“Because Grandma told Daddy she was sorry the judge didn’t give you more years.”
I opened my eyes.
“What?”
Toby lowered his voice.
“They were fighting.”
“Who?”
“Daddy and Grandma.”
“What were they fighting about?”
There was a noise on the other end.
Toby whispered quickly.
“Grandma said Daddy wasn’t supposed to touch the other account.”
The line suddenly disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
Christopher’s face had changed.
“What did he say?”
I looked at my father.
May you like
“There’s another account.”
And if Chad had touched it, two million dollars might have been only the beginning.
