Chapter 2 - Avery Had Been Trying to Tell Him for WeeksGavin did three things before asking another question.
He called Mason’s pediatrician.
He called the police.
Then he called his wife.
Avery answered on the second ring.
“Hey. I’m boarding in twenty minutes.”
She was in Boston.
A three-day trip to help her mother after surgery.
Gavin had expected her home tomorrow.
“Don’t board.”
Silence.
“What happened?”
“It’s Mason.”
Her voice changed instantly.
“What happened to Mason?”
“He’s physically okay.”
“That is not an answer.”
Gavin looked toward the living room.
Mason sat wrapped in a blanket beside a paramedic.
Darlene was in another room.
Separated.
“Darlene did something.”
Avery stopped breathing.
“What?”
Gavin explained.
Not every detail.
Enough.
Avery said nothing for several seconds.
Then:
“I’m coming home.”
“Avery.”
“What?”
“Mason said you found something.”
Silence.
Gavin looked at the torn trust document on the counter.
“He said Darlene told him you were going to ruin everything.”
Avery’s voice became very quiet.
“You found the papers.”
“Some of them.”
“What papers?”
“Payments from Mason’s trust to Cross Residential Management.”
Avery exhaled.
“Damn it.”
Gavin stared at the phone.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“How long?”
“Seven weeks.”
His anger rose instantly.
“Seven weeks?”
“I tried to tell you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Avery laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Gavin, I asked you four times to sit down with me about the household accounts.”
“That isn’t the same as telling me somebody is stealing from Mason.”
“Because I didn’t know that yet.”
He stopped.
Avery continued.
“I found duplicate service invoices.”
“When?”
“Early July.”
“What kind?”
“Household management.”
“Security coordination.”
“Child scheduling.”
“Vendor oversight.”
“Some were real.”
“Some weren’t.”
Gavin looked at the papers.
“How much?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“How much did you find?”
“About two hundred and seventy thousand dollars I couldn’t explain.”
Gavin sat down.
“What?”
“Across several accounts.”
“Not only Mason’s?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I did.”
“No.”
“Yes, Gavin.”
Her voice sharpened.
“I said, ‘Something is wrong with the family accounts.’”
He remembered.
He had been packing for Chicago.
Avery stood in their bedroom holding a folder.
Gavin kissed her forehead and said:
“Send it to Darlene. She knows the household side better than I do.”
He closed his eyes.
Avery continued:
“I told you I didn’t want Darlene handling it.”
He remembered that too.
He had answered:
“You two need to stop fighting.”
His stomach dropped.
Avery had stared at him.
Then walked away.
“I thought this was about you hating how she runs the house.”
“I don’t hate how she runs the house.”
“You hate her.”
“I don’t trust her.”
“That sounded like the same thing to me.”
“I know.”
The words were quiet.
Not forgiving.
Just true.
Gavin rubbed his forehead.
“What happened after I told you to work it out?”
“I went around her.”
“To who?”
“The bank.”
“The trust administrator.”
“Our accountant.”
“And?”
“I learned Cross Residential Management belongs to Darlene.”
Gavin looked toward the room where police were speaking with her.
Darlene had worked for his family since he was twenty-two.
When his mother died, Darlene helped hold the house together.
When Gavin married Avery, Darlene organized half the wedding vendors.
When Mason was born, she brought food to the hospital.
When Gavin’s company nearly collapsed five years ago, Darlene stayed without taking a bonus.
He had called her family.
“Why would she steal?”
Avery’s voice hardened.
“We don’t know that every payment is theft.”
Gavin almost laughed.
“You’re defending her now?”
“I’m defending facts.”
That was Avery.
Sharp.
Sometimes painfully sharp.
But precise.
“I know some bills don’t match services.”
“What did Darlene say?”
“I confronted her three weeks ago.”
There.
The resentment.
“What happened?”
“She told me I had no idea what it took to keep this family functioning.”
“What did you say?”
Avery paused.
“I said, ‘You manage a house, Darlene. You don’t own one.’”
Gavin closed his eyes.
He could imagine exactly how it sounded.
Cold.
Dismissive.
“You said she was nothing?”
“No.”
“Mason said—”
“She may have heard what she wanted to hear.”
Avery continued:
“I told her she no longer had authority to approve payments without a second signature.”
“How did she react?”
“She said your mother gave her authority years ago.”
“My mother is dead.”
“I said exactly that.”
Gavin winced.
“But none of this explains what happened to Mason.”
“No.”
Avery’s voice broke slightly.
“That’s why I’m getting on the first flight home.”
Then she added:
“Gavin, listen to me.”
“What?”
“Do not let Darlene take her leather document case.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“What case?”
“Brown.”
“Gold clasp.”
“She carries it everywhere.”
“I know it.”
“What’s inside?”
“The original payment ledger.”
Gavin stood.
“How do you know?”
“I saw her put it there after our argument.”
“Why didn’t you take it?”
“Because stealing somebody’s documents from their bag is not how adults handle evidence.”
Despite everything, Gavin almost smiled.
Then Avery said:
“And there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Two nights ago I accessed Mason’s trust portal.”
“Yes?”
“Someone had changed the recovery email.”
Gavin felt cold.
“To what?”
“A private address.”
“Whose?”
“I traced it.”
He waited.
Avery said:
“Darlene’s.”
Gavin looked toward the room where Darlene sat.
“How much can she access?”
“I don’t know.”
“I was supposed to speak with the trustee tomorrow morning.”
“Why tomorrow?”
“Because I finally found a transaction I knew for certain was false.”
Gavin’s heartbeat accelerated.
“What transaction?”
“Twenty-four thousand dollars for a child-development consultant.”
“Mason doesn’t have a consultant.”
“Exactly.”
“Who approved it?”
Avery went quiet.
Then:
“You did.”
Gavin stopped.
“No, I didn’t.”
“I know.”
The room seemed to shift around him.
“The authorization has your electronic signature.”
“I never signed it.”
“That’s why I needed to talk to you in person.”
Gavin stared toward Darlene.
Then Mason suddenly spoke from the sofa.
“Dad?”
Gavin lowered the phone.
“What, buddy?”
Mason looked toward the police officer.
Then toward Gavin.
“There’s more trash.”
Gavin frowned.
“Where?”
“Not the kitchen.”
His son swallowed.
“Miss Darlene has a bag in the garage.”
“What bag?”
“A black one.”
“What’s inside?”
Mason looked toward the hallway.
“Mommy’s papers.”
Avery heard him through the phone.
Her voice changed.
“Gavin.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t open anything yourself.”
“Why?”
“Because if those are the originals…”
May you like
She paused.
“They could prove someone has been using your name to take money from our son.”
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