Chapter 9 - Thirteen Years of Missing Money
The first dividend statement carried a date six months after my grandmother's funeral.
I had been a college student working weekend shifts at a bookstore.
My father had told me there was no inheritance because Grandma's business was buried in debt.
I had believed him.
Tessa explained that she couldn't verify where every dollar ultimately went.
But she had preserved legitimate copies of certain statements from her time as controller and had noticed irregularities in the supporting accounts.
I stared at the years marching across the pages.
Birthdays.
Graduations.
A first apartment.
A winter when I skipped Christmas travel because I couldn't afford the ticket.
Somewhere during those years, the company had reported distributions under my name.
Dana cautioned that reported distributions were not the same as proof money legally belonged to me or had been diverted.
We would need the trust agreement, tax records, bank statements, and testimony.
But the pattern demanded answers.
My mother called that evening.
“Your father says you've ruined the investor deal.”
“Did he tell you about the dividends?”
She went quiet.
“Mom?”
“I signed checks,” she whispered.
My skin went cold.
“Whose checks?”
“He told me they were reimbursements.”
“Did they have my name on them?”
“Sometimes.”
I gripped the edge of my desk.
“Why didn't you ask?”
She began crying.
“I was afraid of losing our home.”
I wanted to shout that she had helped him threaten mine.
Instead, I asked her to tell Dana everything she remembered.
My mother said she couldn't.
“Nathaniel found the green notebook missing,” she said.
“He changed the locks.”
Then she hung up.
Twenty minutes later, a text arrived from her number.
DO NOT CALL ME AGAIN.
It didn't sound like her.
I drove to Lena's with an overnight bag and saw a dark sedan parked across from my apartment building.
The driver lowered a newspaper when I looked over.
I kept driving and recorded the plate from memory as soon as I reached a safe place.
At midnight, Dana forwarded a security alert.
An anonymous package had arrived at her office.
Inside was a photograph of my grandmother's grave.
Someone had placed a fresh bouquet on the stone.
May you like
The note attached read: SHE WANTED THE COMPANY TO STAY IN THE FAMILY.
