Chapter 8 - The Woman Samuel Trusted
Evelyn refused to call June immediately.
“Why?”
“Because if she took it, I want to know what she does next.”
Eli stared at his grandmother.
“You’re treating this like chess.”
“No.”
Her gaze remained fixed on the footprints.
“I’m treating it like betrayal.”
Sarah called the sheriff’s office.
Deputies photographed the window, footprints, and fabric.
No accusations were made.
The next morning, June arrived voluntarily.
She wore different boots.
Eli noticed.
So did Evelyn.
June removed her coat.
“You said something was stolen.”
“The USB drive,” Evelyn replied.
June’s face changed.
“What?”
“Samuel’s files.”
June looked genuinely alarmed.
Eli couldn’t tell whether that comforted him.
Evelyn held up the torn fabric.
“Do you own a black wool coat?”
June looked at it.
“Yes.”
“Were you here last night?”
“No.”
“Show me your coat.”
June blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
June hesitated.
Then she opened her phone.
“My office has security cameras.”
She pulled up footage from the previous evening.
At 8:47 p.m., June entered her office.
At 10:15, she left.
The burglary occurred at 9:36.
Eli exhaled.
Evelyn did not.
“Where is the coat?”
“At the cleaner.”
“Since when?”
“Yesterday morning.”
June understood.
“You think somebody wore it.”
“Possibly.”
June sat down.
“Paul knows my cleaner.”
Eli frowned.
“How?”
“We used the same place for years.”
Coincidence.
Or planning.
June leaned forward.
“There’s something I haven’t told you.”
Evelyn’s voice cooled.
“I’m becoming tired of that sentence.”
“Samuel asked me to watch the accounts before he died.”
“You knew about North Ridge?”
“Not the name.”
“But the missing money?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn looked hurt.
“He asked you instead of me.”
“He thought he was protecting you.”
Evelyn laughed bitterly.
“Men have done remarkable damage to women while calling it protection.”
June looked down.
“He believed Michael was involved.”
Eli stiffened.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
“He died before most of these payments.”
“The original scheme began earlier.”
June opened her laptop.
“I recovered archived records last night. North Ridge’s predecessors used different names. Same routing patterns.”
“How far back?”
“2014.”
Samuel had been alive.
Michael had been alive.
June continued.
“Your father received money.”
Eli felt his stomach tighten.
“How much?”
“At least ninety thousand.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
June pushed a statement toward them.
The transfers went from one shell vendor into Michael Harper’s personal account.
Eli whispered, “So Dad was part of it.”
“I don’t know,” June said.
“He received the money.”
“Yes.”
“That’s part of it.”
Evelyn opened her eyes.
“Samuel knew?”
“Some of it.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
June’s voice softened.
“Because Michael promised to repay everything.”
Evelyn looked toward Samuel’s portrait.
“He always believed promises longer than he should have.”
Eli thought of Trent.
Of Vanessa.
Of patterns inherited without anyone admitting they were patterns.
June clicked another file.
“One transfer is different.”
A $120,000 payment.
Michael received it three months before his death.
Then, two days later, he sent the exact amount somewhere else.
“To whom?” Eli asked.
June enlarged the destination.
DENTON & ASSOCIATES CLIENT TRUST ACCOUNT.
Paul.
Evelyn stared at the screen.
“He gave the money back.”
“Possibly.”
“Why to Paul?”
June shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
The room fell silent.
Then Eli’s phone buzzed.
A text from Trent.
CALL ME. NOW.
Eli stepped away.
“What?”
Trent was breathing hard.
“I found the USB.”
Eli froze.
“Where?”
“You’re not going to believe me.”
“Try.”
“In Vanessa’s car.”
Eli stared across the room at Evelyn.
“How?”
“She came to my apartment last night. We argued. She left her car here because she was drunk, and I drove her home.”
“Why were you searching it?”
“She said she had something that could destroy Grandma.”
Eli’s blood ran cold.
“Do you have the drive?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t plug it in.”
“Too late.”
Eli closed his eyes.
“What did you see?”
Trent’s voice became very quiet.
“There’s another folder on it.”
“That wasn’t there before.”
“What folder?”
“Dad.”
Eli gripped the phone.
“What’s inside?”
Trent answered.
“A recording.”
“Of what?”
There was a long pause.
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Then Trent said:
“Dad telling Grandpa that Paul Denton was blackmailing him.”
