Chapter 7 - Twenty-Eight Thousand DollarsMarcus took the morning off work.
Rachel did too.
They sat in the dining room with eighteen months of bank statements spread across the table.
Jordan had already left for school.
Neither parent had confronted him about Adrian yet.
Marcus hated waiting.
Rachel insisted.
“If something financial happened, we need facts before emotion.”
Marcus circled every payment to Northline Property Services.
Twenty-eight thousand four hundred dollars.
He called three tenants from Hawthorne.
He did not accuse Adrian.
He asked routine questions about repairs.
The first tenant remembered a plumber once.
The second remembered no major repairs.
The third said Adrian had sent someone to patch drywall after a leak.
Nothing justified the invoices.
Rachel created a spreadsheet.
“Even assuming every real repair cost double what the tenants remember, we're still missing a lot.”
Marcus called the accountant who prepared the LLC's taxes.
She confirmed the Northline payments had been categorized as maintenance expenses based on invoices Adrian uploaded.
“You approved the annual statements,” she reminded him gently.
Marcus leaned back.
He had.
Without reviewing every invoice.
Because Adrian was his brother.
Because Marcus believed tight control would create resentment, so he had deliberately stepped back.
Now he wondered whether trust had made him careless in more than one relationship.
Rachel saw his expression.
“Don't.”
“Don't what?”
“Turn this into proof that trusting people is stupid.”
Marcus looked at the papers.
“It feels pretty stupid.”
“No. Ignoring evidence is stupid. Trust isn't.”
He glanced at her.
She nodded toward the ceiling.
“That's true with Jordan too.”
Marcus understood.
Jordan's lie did not mean every freedom they had given him was a mistake.
It meant the freedom now required reevaluation.
Marcus called the bank.
Because he was an authorized LLC member, he could ask about transactions on their account.
A representative confirmed the payments had been initiated electronically using Adrian's credentials.
That alone was not illegal; Adrian had authority to pay valid property expenses.
The question was whether the vendor was legitimate.
Then the representative mentioned something else.
“There is also a pending credit inquiry associated with Hawthorne Property LLC.”
Marcus sat up.
“What credit inquiry?”
“A commercial refinance inquiry submitted approximately three weeks ago.”
Rachel stopped typing.
Marcus put the call on speaker.
“I didn't submit one.”
“I can't determine intent, sir. I can only see that an application process was started.”
“By whom?”
“The application lists both managing members.”
Marcus's face went still.
“Was it approved?”
“No. Additional documentation was requested.”
“Can you flag it?”
“I can note the dispute and transfer you to our fraud and business-security team.”
Marcus looked at Rachel.
Her face had gone pale.
They spent the next hour documenting that Marcus had not authorized any refinance application.
The bank would investigate internally.
Nothing had been funded.
No lien had been recorded.
That mattered.
Adrian had not successfully mortgaged the property.
But someone had tried.
Marcus ended the call.
Rachel whispered, “The paper Jordan had.”
“What paper?”
“The storage receipt.”
“No.”
“The way he panicked. Adrian's calls. What if Jordan transported documents for the application?”
Marcus stood.
“My brother involved my kid in attempted fraud.”
“We don't know what Jordan knew.”
“I didn't say he knew.”
“You're thinking it.”
Marcus turned away.
“I don't know what I'm thinking.”
Rachel walked to him.
“Then don't decide until you hear him.”
Marcus stared out the window.
At school, Jordan was also staring through glass.
His chemistry teacher called his name twice before he responded.
After class his counselor, Mrs. Alvarez, stopped him.
“You've missed two cessation check-ins.”
Jordan adjusted his backpack.
“I've been busy.”
“Want to reschedule?”
“No.”
“Jordan.”
He looked at her.
She did not accuse.
That made him want to tell her everything.
Instead he said, “I'm fine.”
Mrs. Alvarez nodded slowly.
“That sentence usually means either you're fine or you're nowhere near fine.”
He almost smiled.
Then his phone vibrated.
Adrian.
Jordan rejected the call.
Mrs. Alvarez noticed.
“Someone bothering you?”
“No.”
“Someone making you uncomfortable?”
Jordan's face changed.
She lowered her voice.
“You can tell me if an adult is pressuring you.”
Jordan's throat tightened.
He shook his head.
After school Jordan took the bus home.
Marcus's car was in the driveway.
So was Rachel's.
Jordan entered.
Both parents sat at the dining table.
Bank statements covered the surface.
Marcus looked up.
“Sit down.”
Jordan slowly lowered his backpack.
Marcus placed a single page in front of him.
A list of the unexplained payments.
“Do you know what Northline Property Services is?”
Jordan read the name.
He shook his head.
“No.”
Marcus watched carefully.
This time, Jordan's confusion looked real.
“Did Adrian ever ask you to deliver money?”
Jordan's silence answered first.
Rachel whispered, “Jordan.”
He looked at them.
His eyes filled with fear.
Marcus's voice softened.
“Son, whatever happened, tell us now.”
Jordan's hand tightened around the strap of his backpack.
Inside it was the envelope.
He could end the lie.
Instead he whispered:
“I didn't know what was in anything.”
Marcus's expression changed.
Rachel leaned forward.
“You delivered things.”
Jordan closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Marcus asked one question.
“How many?”
Jordan opened his eyes.
“I don't know.”
“Try.”
“Maybe six.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
Marcus sat completely still.
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Jordan continued, voice shaking.
“And one of them went to your bank.”
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