Chapter 8: The Thing Julian Was Actually Afraid Of
Marcus filed the formal complaint at three seventeen that afternoon.
The complaint named Julian Ashford and Renata Voss jointly.
It documented the fraudulent inducement to transfer funds, the attempted unauthorized transfer, and the pattern of prior LLCs that Marcus's research had uncovered.
It was submitted to the New York Attorney General's financial fraud division and simultaneously to the FBI's financial crimes unit, because two of the prior LLC registrations had been in different states, which made it a federal matter.
I sat in Marcus's office and signed every page.
Deb sat beside me.
She had not left my side since the call that morning.
When I set the pen down for the last time, Marcus looked at both of us.
"Now we wait," he said.
"These things don't move overnight.
But the transfer attempt — the one that was blocked — that is contemporaneous evidence.
That is the kind of thing investigators get interested in."
"What happens to Julian?" I asked.
"If they find what I think they'll find in those prior LLCs, he is looking at wire fraud, potentially conspiracy.
His brother may be implicated as well." He set his pen down.
"For now, his most immediate problem is that his attempt to access your account has been documented and preserved.
He cannot pretend it didn't happen."
My phone buzzed.
An unknown number.
I answered.
The voice was a woman's.
Quiet, careful, with a very slight accent I couldn't immediately place.
"Is this Clara Ashford?"
"It is."
"My name is Renata Voss."
Deb's head turned.
Marcus's hand moved toward his desk.
"I'm aware that a complaint was filed today," Renata said.
"I want you to know that I did not participate in the transfer attempt.
I was not informed of it.
When I learned what Julian had done, I ended my involvement in the company immediately."
"You ended your involvement," I repeated carefully.
"When?"
"This morning."
"Convenient timing."
"I understand how it looks." A pause.
"Mrs.
Ashford — Clara — I am not calling to ask for anything.
I am calling because I have documentation.
Emails, wire records, the original operating agreement.
They show clearly that the capitalization funds were directed entirely by Julian, and that I raised concerns about the source of the capital at the time of formation."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"You raised concerns."
"In writing.
He overruled me.
I have those emails."
I looked at Marcus.
He was already writing.
"Why are you calling me instead of the investigators?" I asked.
"Because I want you to know before they do," she said.
"I made mistakes.
I should have walked away earlier.
I did not." A long pause.
"I had a meeting with Julian last week.
The day before your wedding.
He told me the final transfer was going to happen during the honeymoon.
He said his wife would not be watching the account."
The room was very still.
"He told you about me," I said.
"He told me enough."
"And you said nothing."
Renata was quiet for a moment.
"No.
I didn't." Another pause — shorter this time.
"That is why I'm calling now."
It was not an apology.
It was something colder and more honest than an apology.
It was a woman who had waited one day too long, telling me so directly, because she needed me to know she was going to cooperate.
"Send everything to Marcus Webb," I said.
"His contact information is on the filing."
"I already have it."
The call ended.
Marcus looked at me.
"She'll cooperate."
"She'll cooperate," I agreed.
"Because she's afraid."
"That's the most useful kind of cooperating witness there is," he said.
Deb reached over and put her hand over mine on the table.
Neither of us said anything for a moment.
Then Marcus's phone rang.
He looked at the screen and picked it up.
His expression shifted — not dramatically, but enough.
"Yes," he said.
"She's here." A pause.
"I'll tell her."
He set the phone down.
May you like
"That was my contact at the AG's office," he said.
"They've located Julian."
