Chapter 5 - Seventy-Five Thousand Dollars
Emily stared at the photograph until the numbers blurred.
“Where did you get this?”
“Inside a file drawer in Richard’s home office,” Catherine said.
“You searched his office?”
“It’s my house.”
“That didn’t answer me.”
Catherine took a breath.
“Yes. I searched it.”
Emily handed the photograph back.
“He planned to pay me?”
“Or fabricate a payment.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
Emily laughed without humor.
“He decided my price before deciding what he was going to do to me.”
Catherine looked sick.
They stood on the courthouse steps while pedestrians moved around them.
“Take it to Detective Ortiz,” Emily said.
“I already sent her a copy.”
“Where’s the original?”
“In a locked document case.”
“Give it to the police.”
“I will.”
Emily turned away.
“Now.”
Catherine stiffened.
“Emily—”
“Now.”
The command shocked both of them.
For twenty-three years, Catherine Welles had run meetings where senators waited for her to finish speaking.
But she nodded.
“You’re right.”
They walked back inside together.
The ledger page became evidence.
By evening, Richard’s lawyers issued a statement denying “false and sensational allegations designed to influence an internal corporate dispute.”
The statement did not mention Emily by name.
It did not need to.
Within hours, reporters surrounded Catherine’s gates.
Emily’s photograph appeared online anyway.
Someone had leaked her employment records.
Her neighborhood.
Her previous jobs.
A parking ticket.
A three-year-old photograph from a birthday party.
One commentator called her “a financially struggling domestic worker with potential motive.”
Emily threw her phone across Danielle’s couch.
Danielle picked it up.
“Stop reading.”
“They’re talking about me like I’m evidence.”
“You are not what strangers say.”
“That sounds nice until strangers decide whether they believe I was attacked.”
Danielle sat beside her.
“Then stop trying to convince strangers.”
Emily looked at her cousin.
“Tell the truth to the people who matter.”
Emily wanted to believe that was enough.
It was not.
The next morning, the district attorney’s office informed Richard he would be charged with unlawful restraint and assault-related offenses while prosecutors continued evaluating additional charges based on the evidence.
His attorneys arranged his surrender.
He was photographed entering court in a navy overcoat.
He looked irritated.
Not ashamed.
After his arraignment, a judge issued orders prohibiting contact with Emily and restricting access to the mansion while evidence preservation continued.
Richard was released under conditions.
The news infuriated Emily.
Catherine received a different kind of blow.
Jonah Price called with preliminary findings from Cedar Meridian.
“There’s more money than we thought.”
“How much?”
“At least twenty-eight point seven million dollars moved through related entities over three years.”
Catherine went silent.
“From Bellmont?”
“Some from Bellmont Foundation accounts. Some from corporate consulting budgets. Some from personal marital accounts.”
“Where did it go?”
“Settlement entities. Legal firms. A property company. And something called Northstar Asset Management.”
“Who owns Northstar?”
“We’re working on it.”
Catherine paced her temporary apartment in Manhattan.
She had refused to return to the mansion except with counsel.
“What about the documents with my signature?”
“Some appear to be genuine signature pages attached to different transaction schedules.”
Catherine stopped.
“He swapped pages.”
“That’s one possibility.”
She remembered breakfast three months earlier.
Richard had given her six routine authorization forms.
She signed.
He removed each page immediately.
She had not asked for copies.
“Could that make me criminally liable?”
Naomi, listening on speakerphone, answered first.
“It creates questions. That’s why we disclose everything and cooperate.”
Catherine hated the word cooperate.
For decades, she had controlled outcomes.
Now she had to submit evidence and wait.
That evening, Detective Ortiz called.
Laura Benton had completed her interview.
Catherine stood by the window.
“Did she say what happened?”
Ortiz paused.
“I can’t share every detail.”
“Did Richard hurt her?”
“Yes.”
Catherine closed her eyes.
Seven years earlier, Laura had come to her office one afternoon.
Catherine suddenly remembered.
Laura had stood in the doorway and said, “Mrs. Welles, can I speak to you privately?”
Catherine had been preparing for a board presentation.
She replied, “Can it wait until tomorrow?”
Laura said yes.
The next morning, she was gone.
Richard explained that he had discovered missing silver pieces and allowed her to resign rather than involve police.
Catherine never called Laura.
She never asked why Laura wanted to speak.
A knock came at Catherine’s apartment door.
Naomi entered carrying a sealed envelope delivered by courier.
“No return address.”
Inside was a single photograph.
Richard and Graham Pike were standing outside a private bank in Manhattan.
The date was six months earlier.
On the back, someone had written:
CATHERINE, YOU ARE LOOKING AT THE WRONG MONEY.
Below it:
ASK WHO OWNS NORTHSTAR.
Naomi studied the handwriting.
“Do you recognize it?”
“No.”
Catherine looked again.
There was something familiar about the capital N.
“Maybe.”
Her phone rang.
Jonah Price.
He sounded breathless.
“I found Northstar’s beneficial owner.”
Catherine sat down.
“Who?”
“It isn’t Richard.”
For one hopeful second, she thought the investigation had taken a different direction.
Then Jonah continued.
“Northstar Asset Management is owned through a trust.”
“Whose trust?”
He hesitated.
“Yours.”
Catherine stopped breathing.
Naomi slowly lowered the photograph.
Jonah continued.
“According to the paperwork, you created it eleven months ago.”
“I did not.”
“Your notarized signature says otherwise.”
Catherine whispered, “Who was the notary?”
There was the sound of typing.
Then Jonah answered.
“Martin Shaw.”
Catherine’s face hardened.
Martin Shaw had been her personal attorney for seventeen years.
He had drafted her father’s estate documents.
He had negotiated her marriage agreements.
May you like
He knew every trust, property and voting interest Catherine owned.
And if Richard had forged Catherine’s financial life, Martin was the one man who knew exactly how to make the forgery look real.
