Chapter 7 - What Lorraine Was Paid For
Lorraine did not confess.
That would have made everything easier.
Instead, through counsel, she denied stealing anything, denied conspiring with Adrian, and claimed that references to “Cedar” involved legitimate property-management work.
But investigators found a bank transfer.
Not $250,000.
$40,000.
Paid to Lorraine six months earlier through a consulting company tied to Northstar.
Then another $15,000.
Then $10,000.
Miranda sat across from Claire in a conference room downtown as the forensic accountant, Marcus Bell, spread documents across the table.
“Total confirmed payments to Lorraine or entities connected to her: sixty-five thousand dollars.”
“For nanny work?” Miranda asked.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Marcus tapped a transaction.
“But these payments originated from funds that passed through Hale Meridian contractors.”
Claire looked at Miranda.
“Company money.”
“Possibly misappropriated company money,” Marcus corrected.
Miranda appreciated the precision even though she hated the sentence.
“What was Evan investigating?”
Marcus opened the Cedar file.
“Project Cedar was supposed to be an acquisition.”
“Of what?”
“A portfolio of assisted-living properties in Missouri and Kansas. Hale Meridian paid approximately twelve million dollars in deposits, feasibility studies, consulting fees, and option agreements.”
“I remember Cedar.”
“Did it close?”
“No. Adrian said the seller withdrew.”
Marcus nodded.
“That’s the official explanation.”
“And the real one?”
“We can’t find evidence that several of the supposed consultants existed independently of Northstar.”
Miranda stared.
“Adrian created fake vendors?”
“We’re not ready to state that as a conclusion.”
Claire gave Marcus a look.
He sighed.
“But the pattern is bad.”
Miranda leaned back.
Evan had argued with Adrian repeatedly during the final year of his life.
At the time, Miranda had believed it was ordinary sibling tension.
Evan thought Adrian took shortcuts.
Adrian thought Evan was overly cautious.
She remembered one dinner.
Evan had thrown his napkin onto the table.
“You cannot keep treating company cash like a private wallet.”
Adrian had laughed.
“You cannot keep treating every risk like a felony.”
Miranda had told them both to stop.
Now the memory felt different.
“Why would Lorraine need to be in my house?”
Marcus looked toward Claire.
Claire answered.
“Because Evan kept something Adrian wanted.”
“The flash drive?”
“Maybe.”
“He already got into the security system.”
“Maybe he wanted the original documentation.”
Miranda thought about the blue envelope.
“Or a code.”
They examined the flash drive.
A cybersecurity specialist had copied it before accessing anything.
Inside were partial audit files, vendor correspondence, and photographs Evan had apparently taken of paper ledgers.
One image showed a handwritten page.
At the bottom Evan had written:
Original approvals removed from HQ archive. Backup retained at home.
Miranda stood.
“Backup where?”
Claire looked at the study floor plan.
“There’s nothing else in the safe.”
Miranda remembered Ryan’s words.
She said, “I found the envelope, but the code isn’t there.”
The envelope was only one piece.
The code opened something else.
That night Miranda returned home.
Bennett refused dinner at the long table.
“No.”
“We can eat somewhere else.”
“No bowl.”
Miranda crouched.
“Okay.”
They ate grilled cheese sandwiches on the library floor from flat plates.
Ryan barely touched his.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Was Dad trying to catch Uncle Adrian?”
Miranda hesitated.
“Maybe.”
“Did Uncle Adrian hurt Dad?”
The question struck like a physical blow.
“No.”
Ryan studied her.
“You answered fast.”
“Because your dad died from a heart problem. The doctors were very clear.”
“Lorraine did bad things for Uncle Adrian.”
“We’re still finding out what she did.”
Ryan looked down.
“Maybe Uncle Adrian does lots of bad things.”
Miranda moved closer.
“That’s possible.”
Ryan looked toward Bennett, who was pulling his sandwich apart.
Then he whispered, “I know where Lorraine looked.”
Miranda frowned.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Where?”
“In the grand hall.”
Ryan stood and led her toward the stone column.
The same column hiding the emergency camera switch.
He crouched.
“Here.”
Near the baseboard was a small decorative wooden panel.
Miranda had seen it thousands of times.
Ryan pressed one corner.
Nothing happened.
“She used something.”
“What?”
“A coin.”
Miranda took a quarter from her pocket and pressed it into a narrow slot.
There was a click.
The panel released.
Behind it was a shallow compartment.
May you like
Empty.
Except for one torn piece of blue paper.
