Chapter 7: The Investigator
Richard Hale arrived at Dana's office the following morning at nine o'clock.
He was in his mid-fifties, with the unhurried manner of someone who had spent decades watching people underestimate him.
He set a thin folder on the conference table and folded his hands over it.
"How long have you been investigating Preston?" Dana asked.
"SMR Advisory Group came to our attention seven months ago," Hale said.
"A routine audit flagged several transfers as structurally irregular.
The company had no employees, no contracts on file, no invoices.
But it received payments from four separate sources, all of which traced back to Whitmore Capital."
"Four sources," Natalie said.
"Your family reserve was one.
The others were investor funds.
Client money." He opened the folder.
"Three of Preston Whitmore's private investors have been receiving falsified quarterly statements.
The returns they were shown did not reflect the actual performance of their portfolios.
The difference was being redirected."
"To SMR," Natalie said.
"Correct."
Dana leaned forward.
"How much in total?"
"Across all sources, including the marital funds — approximately $2.3 million over eighteen months."
The number sat in the room.
Natalie had known about the $154,000.
She had not known about the rest.
"He was defrauding his own clients," she said.
"That's the working conclusion, yes." Hale looked at her carefully.
"Mrs.
Whitmore, I want to be direct with you.
Your divorce filing, and the financial disclosures attached to it, gave us documentation we had been trying to obtain through other means for several months.
Your attorney's cooperation has been significant."
Natalie looked at Dana.
"I contacted Mr.
Hale's office two weeks ago," Dana said.
"When the scope of the transfers became clear."
"You didn't tell me."
"I didn't want to raise your hopes until I knew it was real." Dana paused.
"It's real."
Natalie turned back to Hale.
"What happens now?"
"We're preparing to execute a warrant for Whitmore Capital's server records and financial files.
Once we have those, we'll have enough to move forward with formal charges." He paused.
"I want to ask you something, Mrs.
Whitmore.
Has Preston made any attempt to contact you since the dinner last night?"
"He sent two text messages."
"Did he mention the business?
Any accounts?
Any transfers?"
"No.
He asked me to call him."
Hale nodded slowly.
"We believe he may attempt to move assets in the next 48 to 72 hours.
We've seen this pattern before.
When someone in his position realizes the walls are closing, the first instinct is to protect liquidity." He looked at Dana.
"We'll need a court order to freeze the Whitmore Capital accounts.
I'd like your support in expediting that."
"You'll have it by noon," Dana said.
Hale stood and picked up his folder.
"Mrs.
Whitmore." He looked at her directly.
"I want you to know — what you did, the documentation you pulled together, the Delaware filing, the timing of it — it was precise.
Most people in your position would have been too frightened or too hurt to think clearly." He paused.
"You thought clearly."
Natalie looked at the table.
"I had a reason to," she said.
After Hale left, Dana poured two cups of coffee and set one in front of Natalie.
"He's going to find out about the investigation today," Dana said.
"Maybe this afternoon.
Someone will tell him, or he'll notice something.
And when he does, he's going to call you."
"I know."
"Don't answer."
"I won't."
Dana wrapped both hands around her cup.
"How are you feeling?
Honestly."
Natalie thought about it.
"Like I've been holding my breath for three weeks," she said.
"And I'm not allowed to exhale yet."
"Not yet," Dana agreed.
"But soon."
Natalie's phone lit up on the table between them.
Preston Whitmore.
May you like
She turned it face-down.
"Soon," she said.
