Chapter 4: The Folder He Never Knew I Had
My attorney's name is Constance Webb.
She has represented me since the firm's first year, and she does not rattle easily.
But when I read her the third document over the phone — the one with the name on it — she went quiet for a full four seconds.
"Say that name again," she said.
"Melissa Varon.
She's listed as co-signatory on the account.
Eighteen deposits over eight months.
The smallest is four thousand dollars."
"Rachel." Constance's voice shifted into the register she used when things became serious.
"That's not just an affair.
If he was moving marital assets into a joint account with another person, that's dissipation.
That changes the entire financial picture."
"I know."
"I need you to forward me everything in that folder right now."
"Already sending."
I heard her keyboard.
A pause.
Then: "There's a property deed here."
"I saw it."
"He purchased a condominium.
Six months ago.
Cash."
The word landed quietly.
Cash.
David's salary had been substantial, but not cash-for-a-condominium substantial.
Not without pulling from somewhere else.
"Find where the money came from," I said.
"I will.
Rachel, I want you to do something for me tonight.
Don't speak to him again before morning.
Not one word.
If he tries to talk to you, walk away."
"He's already in the guest room."
"Good.
Lock your office."
"It's always locked."
"Good," she said again.
"Get some sleep if you can.
I'll have a full picture for you by seven a.m."
I set the phone down and looked at the photograph again.
It was a restaurant.
Candlelight.
David in the gray jacket I had given him for his birthday, leaning across the table toward a woman I didn't recognize.
She was laughing.
He was looking at her the way he used to look at me, back when looking at me was still something he bothered to do.
I turned the photograph face-down on the desk.
I didn't sleep.
At 6:47 a.m., Constance called back.
"The cash came from his company expense account," she said.
"Over fourteen months, he redirected corporate funds through a vendor account he controlled.
The vendor doesn't exist.
It's a shell."
I sat up straighter.
"That's not a marital issue."
"No," Constance said.
"That's fraud."
The word sat between us on the line.
"How much?" I asked.
"Current estimate is just over three hundred thousand dollars."
I stood up and walked to the window.
The driveway was still empty.
The morning was gray and still.
"Does Gerald Marsh know yet?"
"Not from me.
But Rachel — as majority owner of the firm, you have an obligation to report this.
You know that."
"I know."
"The question is whether you want to be the one who makes that call, or whether you want me to handle it through counsel."
I thought about David sitting at the kitchen table last night.
The hollowed-out voice.
The sorry that didn't touch anything.
"I'll make the call," I said.
"Set up the nine o'clock with the board.
I'll tell them everything."
A pause.
"And David?"
I looked at the empty driveway one more time.
"He'll find out when they call him in."
I ended the call and stood there in the quiet.
Somewhere downstairs, I heard the guest room door open.
Footsteps in the hallway.
The sound of David moving through a house that had never been his.
Then a knock at my office door.
"Rachel." His voice was careful.
Controlled.
A different David than last night.
"We need to talk.
Before you do anything else, I need you to hear me out."
I didn't move from the window.
"Rachel.
Please.
There are things you don't understand yet."
I walked to the door and opened it.
He was dressed.
Tie on.
Like he was going somewhere.
Like he still had somewhere to go.
"I understand everything, David." I kept my voice even.
"More than you think."
Something shifted in his face.
A flicker of something that wasn't grief and wasn't anger.
"What did Constance tell you?"
The fact that he knew her name — knew I had called her — meant he had been listening at the door.
"Enough," I said.
And closed it again.
His hand hit the door once, flat-palmed.
Not a knock.
Something harder than that.
"Rachel, if you go to the board, I will make this very difficult for you.
I have things too.
I have information about the firm's early acquisitions that you would not want made public."
I stood on my side of the door and felt something settle in my chest.
Cold and clear.
"Then bring it," I said.
"Bring all of it."
May you like
Silence.
Then footsteps, moving away down the hall.
