Chương 10
Dana continued. “Funds moved from Bellweather to an account controlled by Victoria, then to personal expenses, including rent, travel, and debt payments. Some also returned to the foundation as supposed donations.”
“She donated stolen money back?”
“For recognition and tax positioning, apparently.”
Clara rubbed her eyes.
“There is another problem,” Dana said.
“Of course there is.”
“Thomas approved several invoices.”
“He signs everything Victoria puts in front of him.”
“That is not a legal defense.”
“Did he receive money?”
“Not that we’ve found.”
Julian leaned forward. “Could Victoria have used stored signature credentials?”
“Yes. But Thomas’s repeated approvals create either complicity or extraordinary negligence.”
Clara thought of her father asking for forty-eight hours. She wondered whether he had wanted time to understand the accounts or time to decide how much ignorance he could credibly claim.
“Where is Victoria?” she asked.
“Her attorney says she is staying with friends.”
“At an airport hotel?”
“She checked out two days ago.”
“Can she leave the country?”
“No court order prevents it. The foundation’s civil counsel is seeking an injunction regarding assets.”
Clara stood and walked to the window. Below, pedestrians crossed in front of the courthouse, carrying iced drinks and looking at phones. A man in a green jacket chased a receipt that had blown from his hand.
“Report it,” she said.
Dana was quiet.
“Report everything to the state attorney general and police. The stolen funds, the false company, the coercion, the forged emails.”
“That may expose Thomas to investigation.”
“I know.”
“It will expose Gwen.”
“I know.”
“It may become public before your hospital review is complete.”
“I know.”
Julian looked at her, but he did not smile.
Dana closed the audit report. “I’ll prepare the referral.”
Clara drove to her parents’ house before anyone could call Thomas first.
He was in the garage repairing a wooden drawer from Margaret’s sewing cabinet. The drawer sat upside down on his workbench, one side clamped while glue dried. He had always repaired small things when larger ones became impossible.
Clara placed the report beside his tools.
He read the first page standing up. By the second, he had lowered himself onto a stool.
“I did not create this company.”
“I believe you.”
He looked relieved too quickly.
“You approved payments to it.”
“Victoria brought invoices.”
“For almost half a million dollars.”
“They were spread across years.”
“You never asked what the company did?”
“She said donor research.”
“You signed with stored credentials.”
“She managed the system.”
“You gave her access to your signature.”
“She is my daughter.”
Clara looked around the garage. A bicycle pump hung beside gardening tools. The old red wagon she and Victoria used as children had been pushed beneath a shelf, one wheel missing.
“I’m making a criminal referral,” Clara said.
Thomas set the report down.
“Your mother agreed to this?”
“I didn’t ask permission.”
“You could destroy me.”
“I could tell the truth about what happened.”
“You think those are different?”
“Yes.”
He stood. “I spent thirty-five years building that foundation.”
“Mom built it too.”
“I raised the money.”
“And Victoria stole it while you signed.”
“I trusted her.”
“You protected her.”
“I loved her.”
Clara’s voice rose. “You keep saying those things as if they are identical.”
Thomas stared at her. The glue bottle tipped when his hand struck the bench, spreading a pale line across the wood.
“I knew she was moving money,” he said.
Clara stopped breathing for a moment.
“How much did you know?”
“Not the amount. She told me she was borrowing against event revenue.”
“Borrowing for what?”
“Personal debts. The apartment. A business investment.”
“And you allowed it.”
“She promised to repay it.”
“Did Mom know?”
“No.”
“Did you approve the invoices to hide it?”
He looked at the glue spreading toward the report and moved the papers aside.
“I thought if the foundation had contracts, the transfers could be corrected later.”
“That is fraud.”
“I did not take anything.”
“You helped conceal it.”
“I was trying to prevent your mother from finding out while her heart condition was unstable.”
“Her heart condition became unstable because she found out.”
Thomas pressed both hands against the workbench.
“Victoria said if Margaret removed her, she would expose Gwen’s theft, the affair story, everything. She said the scandal would end the foundation.”
“So you agreed to remove me instead.”
“I agreed to consider temporary authority.”
“You were willing to call me unstable in legal documents.”
“I never used that word.”
“You let her use it.”
His face folded in a way Clara had never seen. Not tears. Something quieter and more humiliating.
“She was desperate,” he said.
“So was Gwen.”
“I know.”
“So was Julian.”
“I know.”
“So was I.”
“I know.”
Clara picked up the report before the glue reached it.
“No more.”
Thomas looked at the broken drawer.
“Will they arrest me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could you wait until your mother is stronger?”
“No.”
The answer hurt him. Clara saw it and did not change it.
When she told Margaret, her mother remained silent for nearly a minute.
They sat in the den, where unopened mail covered one end of the coffee table. A lawnmower buzzed somewhere beyond the backyard fence. Margaret folded a pharmacy receipt into smaller and smaller squares.
“Your father confessed?” she asked.
“To knowing part of it.”
“Part.”
“He says he helped conceal transfers he thought Victoria would repay.”
Margaret folded the receipt again, though it was too thick now.
“He always believed repayment changed the past,” she said.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
Clara believed her. Belief no longer brought relief.
“The referral goes tomorrow.”
Margaret placed the paper square on the table. “Then tomorrow it goes.”
“You’re not asking me to stop.”
“I already asked you to carry too much silence.”
Clara sat back.
Her mother looked older outside the hospital. Illness had reduced her without removing her authority. She still wore lipstick, though it was uneven at one corner.
May you like
“What happens to the foundation?” Margaret asked.
“The board may freeze grants. Donors may leave.”
