Chương 6
Calvin nodded solemnly.
“Good.”
He looked at the rabbit.
“I never trusted him.”
Holly’s mouth moved around the tube in what might have been a smile.
Then Calvin turned to me.
“Hallway.”
We stepped outside.
A woman in green scrubs walked past carrying three pudding cups balanced on a clipboard.
A man farther down the corridor argued quietly into his phone about parking validation.
Calvin handed me a coffee.
“Black.”
“I take cream.”
“You used to take it black.”
“I used to be twenty-six.”
He looked at the cup.
“People get complicated.”
I took it anyway.
“How bad is it?”
“Potentially very bad.”
He opened the briefcase on a small table in the family waiting alcove.
Inside were labeled folders, printed emails, and a thin laptop.
A younger woman sat in one of the chairs nearby.
She stood when we approached.
“This is Dana Wu.”
Dana offered her hand.
“Hi.”
She was probably in her early forties, with dark hair cut to her shoulders and a gray sweater under a black blazer.
Calvin said, “Forensic accountant.”
Dana gave him a look.
“That makes me sound much more exciting than I am.”
“I hope you’re boring.”
“I usually am.”
I shook her hand.
“What did you find?”
She opened the laptop.
“Not everything yet.”
Calvin sat.
I stayed standing.
Dana pulled up a copy of a mortgage application.
Derek’s name appeared at the top.
Vanessa’s appeared beneath it.
The property address was in Westfield.
I recognized the street from a development advertisement Vanessa had once sent me with a comment about how ridiculous the kitchen islands were.
At the time, I had replied with a laughing emoji.
Dana scrolled.
“Here.”
Projected assets.
A line item showed three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars under anticipated family trust distribution.
My stomach turned.
“He expected to get that?”
Calvin shook his head.
“He had no guaranteed right to it.”
“Then why is it listed?”
Dana answered.
“Because someone wanted the lender to treat it as a likely future asset.”
“And the letter?”
She opened another file.
There was Calvin’s name at the bottom.
The signature looked convincing.
Too convincing.
I looked at him.
“That looks like yours.”
“It is an imitation of mine.”
“Could Derek have gotten your signature?”
“Easily.”
Calvin folded his hands.
“I’ve signed Christmas cards, estate acknowledgments, tax correspondence.”
Dana pointed to the page.
“The more important problem is the language.”
I read the paragraph.
It claimed Derek was expected to receive funds from the Rhodes-administered Cole Family Trust within eighteen months.
“None of that is true?”
“Not as written.”
Calvin’s voice sharpened.
“The trust permits discretionary distributions under specific conditions.”
“He knew that?”
“He signed acknowledgments stating exactly that.”
I stared at the document.
“Could Vanessa have written it?”
Dana leaned back.
“Possibly.”
“Could Derek?”
“Possibly.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“No.”
Her expression did not change.
“But guessing would be less helpful.”
Calvin slid another page toward me.
“This is why I came in person.”
It was a transaction record.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
A payment of seven thousand five hundred dollars had been made two weeks earlier from the same holding account that received our forty-eight thousand.
The recipient was a company called Langford Advisory Services.
“What is that?”
Dana answered.
“A document preparation and financial consulting company registered in Delaware.”
“Legitimate?”
“Technically.”
I looked at her.
“That answer sounds bad.”
“It means the company exists.”
“And?”
“It appears to have one employee.”
“Who?”
She rotated the laptop toward me.
A professional profile appeared.
The photograph showed a man I had seen before.
Not often.
Once at Vanessa’s birthday dinner.
Once at Derek’s office holiday party.
And once, I now remembered, sitting in Derek’s car outside our house nearly a year ago.
“Evan Langford.”
The name came out before Dana said it.
Calvin looked at me.
“You know him?”
“He worked with Derek.”
“Worked?”
“They were at the same development firm.”
Dana nodded.
“Until six months ago.”
“What happened?”
“He was terminated.”
“For what?”
“Internal financial misconduct, according to the employment record we were able to verify.”
My coffee suddenly tasted metallic.
“What kind?”
“False vendor invoices.”
I put the cup down.
Calvin watched my face.
“Marissa?”
I looked through the glass wall of the waiting alcove toward Holly’s room.
A nurse adjusted something beside her bed.
“I saw Evan at our house last winter.”
“When?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Try.”
I closed my eyes.
Snow had been piled along the curb.
Not much.
A dirty ridge left by the plow.
I had been coming home from the pharmacy with Holly’s anti-nausea medication.
Derek had been sitting in his car with someone.
He got out too quickly when he saw me.
I remembered teasing him about conducting secret business in the driveway.
He had said Evan was having marriage trouble.
I had believed him because the explanation was boring.
“December.”
Dana made a note.
“Before or after Christmas?”
“Before.”
Calvin asked, “Did Evan come inside?”
“No.”
“Did you hear what they discussed?”
“No.”
“Did Derek explain why he was meeting him?”
“He said Evan was having problems with his wife.”
Dana and Calvin exchanged a glance.
I hated it.
“What?”
Dana closed one window and opened another.
“We found an email between Derek and Evan dated December seventeenth.”
My pulse began to climb.
“You have Derek’s email?”
“No.”
“This was in the lender’s supporting documentation.”
She showed me the page.
Most of the exchange was vague.
Figures.
Questions about verification.
A reference to timing.
Then one sentence made my stomach knot.
Need to keep M out of this until H situation resolves.
I stared at the initials.
“M is me.”
“Probably,” Dana said.
“H is Holly.”
Calvin did not answer.
He did not need to.
I read the next line.
Evan had replied, Understood, but if medical costs start hitting accounts first, structure changes.
I gripped the edge of the table.
“They were planning this in December.”
May you like
Dana spoke carefully.
“They were discussing something financial in December.”
