Chapter 5: What Marcus Knew
The woman waiting in the lobby was young — mid-twenties, dark circles under her eyes, a canvas tote bag held against her chest with both arms as if it contained something breakable.
She stood up the moment she saw Clara.
"Mrs.
Vance?"
"Yes."
"My name is Priya.
I work — I worked — in the accounts department at Vance Construction." She looked at the door behind Clara, then at the street through the glass.
"Marcus told me what happened at the cemetery.
He said you took the transfer document."
"I did."
"There's more." Priya sat back down and pulled the tote bag onto her lap.
"I've been keeping copies for three months.
I didn't know what to do with them.
I was scared." She opened the bag and lifted out a manila envelope, thick with papers.
"I'm still scared.
But Marcus said Leonard's mother was there and she wasn't afraid of any of them, and I thought—" She stopped.
Pressed her lips together.
"I thought if you weren't afraid, maybe I didn't have to be either."
Clara sat down beside her.
"Tell me what you found."
Priya opened the envelope.
"It started about eight months ago.
Contracts began routing through a shell company — Veritas Holdings LLC.
I didn't recognize the name.
When I looked it up, the registered agent was a man named Dale Pritchard." She pulled out a printed page.
"Dale Pritchard is Veronica's brother.
He changed his last name seven years ago after a fraud conviction in Louisiana."
Clara took the page.
"The contracts were real," Priya continued.
"Vance Construction did the work.
But the payments were split — part to the firm's operating account, part to Veritas.
Over eight months, approximately one point four million dollars moved through Veritas."
"Leonard's money."
"The firm's money.
Which is Leonard's money, yes." Priya pulled out another sheet.
"Six weeks ago, Mr.
Vance called me into his office.
He'd found the same discrepancy.
He asked me to print everything and bring it to him quietly, without going through the main server." She paused.
"I did.
I brought him everything.
He thanked me and told me to keep a copy somewhere safe and not tell anyone."
"And then?"
"And then four days later, Veronica came into the office and told us Leonard had been kjlled in a car accident on Route 35." Priya's voice was steady but her hands were not.
"She said she would be taking over management of the firm effective immediately.
She had documents.
Signed documents.
She told us all that Leonard had been planning the transition for months and that she expected full cooperation."
"And Mr.
Cobb?"
Priya looked at her hands.
"Mr.
Cobb said we should all respect Leonard's wishes and support Veronica through her grief."
The word sat between them.
"He knew," Clara said.
"I don't know how much he knew.
But he didn't ask any questions.
And the documents Veronica brought — he signed them.
Same day."
Clara looked at the envelope.
"Is all of this in here?"
"The account records, the Veritas transfers, the shell company registration, Leonard's original notes from when he found the discrepancy — he wrote things down by hand and I photographed the pages before I gave them back to him." She pulled out her phone and showed Clara a photograph.
Leonard's handwriting.
A list of dates, amounts, and one name circled twice at the bottom.
Dale Pritchard.
And below it, in Leonard's hand: V.
knows.
Clara stared at those two words for a long time.
"He knew she was involved," Clara said.
"Yes."
"And he was building a case."
"I think so."
"And someone found out he was building it." Clara closed the envelope.
"Priya, I need you to come upstairs with me and give all of this to the lawyer I'm working with.
His name is Daniel Marsh.
He is filing to freeze the firm's assets today."
Priya gripped the tote bag.
"If Veronica finds out I gave this to you—"
"She's going to find out eventually.
The question is whether she finds out before or after she's lost the ability to do anything about it." Clara stood.
"Come upstairs.
You've been carrying this alone for three months.
You don't have to anymore."
Priya stood slowly.
They were halfway to the elevator when Clara's hand went to her shawl — to the photograph of Leonard pressed against her chest — and she thought about the two words she'd heard behind her at the cemetery.
She's going to find him.
Then we have maybe two hours.
May you like
That had been over two hours ago.
Wherever Leonard was hiding, the clock had already run out.
