Chương 5
She arrived ten minutes early and spent the first few minutes looking toward the door every time someone entered.
David noticed.
“Are you okay?”
She gave a nervous smile.
“I’m fine.”
Rachel looked at her.
“You don’t look fine.”
Karen folded her hands around her coffee.
“I’m just not used to talking about this.”
“About what?”
She looked at David.
“About knowing something was wrong and staying quiet.”
David did not respond.
The anger that I expected from him never appeared.
Instead, his face changed in a way I had not seen before.
He looked hurt.
Because hearing that someone knew there was a problem meant someone had been watching him fall.
Karen took a breath.
“When I started working for your company, everything was normal.”
She glanced at David.
“You were organized.”
He almost smiled.
“Sometimes too organized.”
“That’s true.”
It was the first moment of humor in the conversation.
A small one.
But everyone noticed.
Karen continued.
“You checked everything.”
David frowned.
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
She smiled faintly.
“You once called me because a software subscription was three dollars higher than expected.”
“I remember that.”
“You apologized for wasting my time.”
David looked embarrassed.
“I was probably annoying.”
“You were.”
She paused.
“But you were honest.”
Then her expression changed.
“The problems started when Selina became more involved.”
David leaned forward.
“What problems?”
“Small things.”
“What kind of small things?”
Karen looked at Rachel.
“Things that seem meaningless until you see the pattern.”
She explained that at first it was unusual expenses.
Then unusual approvals.
Then requests for reports that bypassed normal procedures.
“Selina told me Arthur was helping with strategic planning.”
“Did you believe her?” Rachel asked.
“Not completely.”
“Why?”
Karen looked down.
“Because Arthur never asked questions about the business.”
“What did he ask about?”
“Control.”
Nobody spoke.
Karen continued.
“He wanted to know who had access to accounts.”
“Who could approve transfers.”
“Who could change passwords.”
“Who had authority if David was unavailable.”
David’s face tightened.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Karen looked ashamed.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
David shook his head.
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s because every time I brought it up, you were already dealing with something else.”
She looked at him carefully.
“You were working eighty hours a week.”
He looked away.
“And Selina always seemed to appear right after I talked to you.”
Rachel wrote something down.
“What happened before you left?”
Karen took a long breath.
“She asked me to adjust records.”
David went still.
“What records?”
“Expenses.”
“Which expenses?”
“The payments to the consulting company.”
The same company connected to Arthur Cole.
“I refused,” Karen said.
“What happened?”
“She told me I was being difficult.”
“Then?”
“Two days later, my access changed.”
David stared.
“You were locked out?”
“Not completely.”
Karen looked uncomfortable.
“Just enough that I couldn’t do my job without asking permission.”
The pieces were beginning to connect.
Not perfectly.
Not enough for a courtroom.
But enough to show a pattern.
Rachel asked careful questions for another hour.
She did not accuse.
She did not exaggerate.
She simply built a record.
When we left the coffee shop, David walked slower than usual.
“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded.
Then shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
That answer was more honest.
“You thought you were losing your company because you made mistakes,” I said.
He looked at me.
“Maybe I did make mistakes.”
“Everyone does.”
“But maybe I wasn’t the only reason.”
The sentence sounded strange coming from him.
Like he was trying on a belief that did not fit yet.
Rachel called that evening.
She had good news and bad news.
The good news was that Karen’s information gave them a direction.
The bad news was that direction created more questions.
“There is a problem,” Rachel said.
“What?”
“The financial records are incomplete.”
David sat up.
“What do you mean?”
“Some files are missing.”
“Missing how?”
“Deleted.”
His face hardened.
“Can you recover them?”
“Maybe.”
That word was not comforting.
“What else?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Selina’s attorney responded to our request for additional financial documents.”
“And?”
“They claim David authorized every payment.”
David laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“How?”
“They say through verbal approval.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Impossible is not the same as easy to disprove.”
He ran a hand through his hair.
“They’re saying I approved money leaving my own company?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
Rachel remained calm.
“Maybe.”
David looked frustrated.
“What do you mean maybe?”
“I mean we need to stop reacting emotionally.”
The silence afterward was uncomfortable.
Because she was right.
The truth did not care how unfair something felt.
It only mattered what could be shown.
That night, something happened that reminded me how much this situation affected the boys.
I found Leo sitting alone on the motel floor, lining up toy cars.
“Hey, buddy.”
He looked up.
“Grandpa.”
“What are you doing?”
“Making a road.”
I sat beside him.
The road went from one end of the room to the other.
“Where does it go?”
He shrugged.
“Home.”
The word hit harder than I expected.
“Where’s home?”
He pointed at the toy cars.
“Everywhere.”
I smiled.
“That’s a good answer.”
He looked at me seriously.
“Are we staying here forever?”
My throat tightened.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
I looked at him.
Because children asked questions adults spent years avoiding.
“Because your dad loves you.”
Leo seemed satisfied with that answer.
Then he went back to his cars.
A minute later, he said, “Mom says Daddy is sick.”
I stayed still.
“What do you think?”
He moved one car forward.
“Daddy is sad.”
I did not know what to say.
Because a five-year-old had described the situation more accurately than many adults had.
The next court hearing was scheduled for the following week.
Until then, David focused on preparing.
Not fighting.
Preparing.
There was a difference.
He started waking up earlier.
He shaved.
May you like
He wore a clean shirt.
He began taking the boys to the park instead of staying inside the motel room with legal papers.
