Chapter 15 - THE MAN WHO KNEW WHERE THE MONEY WENT
David Rowe was the private investor my father had paid with the forty thousand dollars he told me was for property taxes.
He was also the man Dylan flew across the country to meet after losing his job.
That connection terrified Dad.
When Mom told him about the boarding pass, the color drained from his face.
“Call him,” he said.
Mom stared at him.
“His phone is off.”
“Call the hotel.”
“We don’t know the hotel.”
Dad turned toward me as if I had hidden Dylan personally.
“Can you track him?”
“No.”
“You tracked financial records.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“Daniel might know.”
“Daniel is not a private detective.”
Dad began pacing.
I watched him carefully.
“Why are you afraid of David Rowe?”
He stopped.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Mara, this is not the time.”
“It is exactly the time.”
Mom looked between us.
“Richard?”
Dad shook his head.
“David is trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” I asked.
“He lends money to people who are desperate.”
“You were desperate.”
“Yes.”
“And now Dylan is.”
Dad sank into a chair.
For the first time, he looked defeated rather than angry.
“David does not lend because he cares if you recover.”
“He lends because he wants leverage.”
There was that word again.
“What did he take from you?”
“Nothing illegal.”
“That was not my question.”
Dad rubbed his face.
“Client introductions.”
“What?”
“When my company was failing, some of our customers still owed us favors.”
“David wanted access.”
“To what?”
“Construction deals.”
“Property owners.”
“People who needed bridge money.”
A private lender using a failing supplier as a referral network.
It was ugly but not inherently criminal.
“What does Dylan have that David wants?”
Dad looked at me.
The answer arrived before he spoke.
Me.
Or rather, access to projects around me.
“North River,” I said.
Dad’s eyes closed.
My stomach dropped.
“Did you tell David about North River?”
“No.”
“Did Dylan?”
“I don’t know.”
“What would David want with it?”
“Development creates financing opportunities.”
“Landowners.”
“Subcontractors.”
“Vendors.”
“Anyone short on cash.”
I called Priya immediately.
Then I called Thomas.
Then Daniel.
Not to accuse Dylan of anything new.
To disclose that he was meeting a lender with historical ties to my father’s business and possible interest in developments.
Daniel thanked me and said Mercer Freight security would assess whether any company information might be at risk.
Thomas instructed me not to contact Dylan or Rowe about North River.
Priya agreed.
Then we waited.
Dylan’s meeting was scheduled for nine in Phoenix.
At nine thirty, he texted Chloe.
Stop calling me.
At ten, he texted Mom.
I’m fine.
At ten fifteen, he sent Dad one sentence.
You should have told me what Rowe had on you.
Dad read the message aloud.
His hands began shaking.
“What does he have on you?” Mom asked.
“Nothing.”
“Richard.”
“Nothing that matters now.”
Dad stood and walked toward the kitchen.
I followed.
“What does he have?”
He opened a cabinet and stared inside without taking anything out.
“Mara, leave it alone.”
“No.”
“For once, listen to me.”
“No.”
His shoulders dropped.
Then he said, “I falsified inventory values.”
Mom gasped.
I went still.
Dad turned.
“Not for the bank.”
“Not on tax returns.”
“For David.”
“What does that mean?”
“He wanted collateral schedules before making the private advances.”
“I inflated what the company had.”
“How much?”
“Enough that if he had enforced strictly, I would have had a serious problem.”
“Fraud?”
“I don’t know.”
“You signed false values to obtain money.”
“I repaid most of it.”
“That does not answer the question.”
Mom sat down hard at the kitchen table.
“Why did you never tell me?”
Dad looked at her.
“Because I fixed it.”
She laughed once, a broken sound.
“No.”
“Mara fixed it.”
The room went silent.
It was the first time Mom had said it.
Dad looked away.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown Arizona number.
I answered.
“Mara Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“This is David Rowe.”
Every person in the kitchen froze.
His voice was smooth and almost friendly.
“Your brother is sitting across from me.”
My grip tightened.
“Is he safe?”
Dylan shouted faintly in the background.
“I’m fine.”
David chuckled.
“He is very safe.”
“I think he has misunderstood what I can do for him.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“He believes you ruined his career.”
“That is his opinion.”
“He also believes you have influence over a substantial logistics redevelopment.”
“I am a consultant.”
“Exactly.”
My skin crawled.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing from you.”
“Then why are you calling?”
“Because I do not enjoy being dragged into family disputes by young men who arrive with screenshots and half-understood information.”
I heard Dylan say something sharp.
David ignored him.
“He showed me material related to North River.”
My heart stopped.
“What material?”
“A few photographs.”
“Send them to my attorney.”
“I will.”
“Did he offer them to you?”
There was a pause.
“He offered to introduce me to people he does not know.”
“Using information he does not own.”
Dylan shouted, “That’s not what happened.”
David sighed.
“Mara, your brother is not very good at this.”
I did not know whether to be relieved or horrified.
“Do not use or distribute those images.”
“I have no interest in stolen design documents.”
“You have my word.”
“I will have counsel send them to your attorney.”
Then his tone changed.
“But you should ask Richard why Dylan believed I owed your family a favor.”
I looked at Dad.
He had gone pale.
“What favor?”
David answered before Dad could.
“Your father gave me something years ago that was worth considerably more than forty thousand dollars.”
The call went silent.
“What?”
“A parcel option.”
Dad whispered, “David.”
Rowe laughed softly.
“There you are, Richard.”
My stomach tightened.
“What parcel?” I asked.
David’s answer made my father close his eyes.
May you like
“The vacant industrial land your grandmother left to you.”
