Chapter 5: The Name in the Scottsdale Account
The property management company was called Suncrest Residential LLC.
It had been registered in Arizona fourteen months ago.
The registered agent was a man named Douglas Farwell, who turned out to be a retired accountant in Phoenix with no connection to Barron or Celina that anyone could find immediately.
But the second name on the operating agreement was not Douglas Farwell.
It was Mara Keller.
Barron's sister.
I had met Mara exactly four times in six years of marriage.
She lived in Scottsdale, worked in real estate, and had made it quietly but consistently clear that she considered me an inconvenient addition to the family.
She had not attended our wedding.
She had sent a card.
I sat in Grace's office and read the operating agreement twice.
"How much went to Suncrest?" I asked.
"Two transfers.
Thirty-one thousand and twenty-two thousand.
Total of fifty-three thousand." Grace turned her laptop to face me.
"The remaining forty-one thousand went to a personal account.
We're still tracing it."
"Mara knew."
"It appears so." Grace's voice was careful.
"Adela, this changes the scope significantly.
If Mara received funds she knew were obtained through fraud, she may be liable as well.
Agent Reiss is already looking at it."
"Does Barron know we found this?"
"Not yet.
His attorney hasn't been notified."
I thought about that.
"When will Reiss move?"
"She's requesting a financial warrant for Suncrest's records today.
Depending on what she finds, she may add Mara to the indictment." Grace folded her hands.
"This could take another few weeks."
"That's fine." I stood.
"I have time."
---
I did not have as much time as I thought.
That evening, my phone rang.
The number was Mara's.
I stared at it for three full rings before I answered.
"Adela." Her voice was smooth.
Controlled.
The voice of someone who had rehearsed.
"I think we should talk."
"I'm listening."
"Not on the phone.
In person.
I can be in Raleigh by Thursday."
"Why would I meet with you, Mara?"
A short pause.
"Because I can help you.
And because I think you're smart enough to know the difference between an enemy and someone who made a mistake."
"Did you make a mistake?"
"I made several." Another pause, longer this time.
"I didn't know everything.
When Barron came to me, he said the money was from a joint investment account you both agreed to liquidate.
I had no reason to doubt him."
"You had fifty-three thousand reasons to ask questions."
Silence.
"Thursday," I said.
"Noon.
My attorney's office.
She'll be present."
A beat.
"Fine."
"And Mara — don't contact Barron before then."
The line was quiet long enough that I thought she might refuse.
Then: "All right."
She hung up.
I called Grace immediately.
"She's coming in," I said.
"Thursday noon."
Grace was quiet for a moment.
"She's scared."
"Yes."
"That could be useful." Another pause.
"Or it could mean she's coming in to manage what we know, not to help us."
"I know." I looked out the window at the dark street below.
"Either way, I want to hear what she says."
---
Mara Keller arrived twelve minutes early.
She was taller than I remembered, or maybe it was the way she carried herself — straight-backed, careful, wearing a grey coat that probably cost more than my first month's Army pay.
She shook Grace's hand and then looked at me with an expression I couldn't immediately name.
Not guilt.
Not defiance.
Something in between.
"Thank you for agreeing to this," she said.
"Sit down," Grace said.
She sat.
"Before you say anything," Grace began, "I want to be clear.
This is not a negotiation.
Nothing said in this room grants you any legal protection.
If you want immunity, that conversation happens with the DA's office, not here."
Mara nodded.
"I understand."
"Then tell us what you know."
Mara looked at her hands for a moment.
Then she looked at me.
"Barron told me eighteen months ago that you were planning to divorce him.
He said you'd already consulted an attorney and that you intended to claim the Raleigh house as a separate asset.
He said if that happened, the family would lose everything your grandfather had built."
"My grandfather built nothing for the Keller family," I said.
"He built it for me."
"I know that now." Mara's voice didn't waver.
"He told me you had agreed to liquidate a joint account to fund a new investment property.
He said it was a tax strategy.
He sent me documents."
"What kind of documents?"
"A letter.
On bank letterhead.
Your signature at the bottom." She paused.
"I didn't verify it.
I should have.
I didn't."
Grace leaned forward.
"What did you do with the funds once they arrived?"
"I used them as a deposit on a property in Scottsdale.
A rental.
I thought it was a legitimate family investment." Mara's jaw tightened slightly.
"I found out what actually happened three weeks ago.
When Barron called me after the Ball."
The room went very still.
"What did he say?" I asked.
Mara looked at me directly.
"He told me the money had come from your house.
He told me the documents were forged." She stopped.
"He told me to stay quiet and it would all go away."
"And instead you called me."
"Instead I called my own attorney." She held my gaze.
"And then I called you."
I looked at her for a long moment.
She didn't look away.
"Mara," I said.
"Did your mother know you were receiving those funds?"
Something shifted in her face.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
"She knew about the Scottsdale property," Mara said carefully.
"Whether she knew where the deposit came from—"
"Yes or no."
A pause that lasted too long.
May you like
"Yes," she said.
"She knew."
