Chapter 6 - THE SECOND ACCOUNT
Three days after Jonathan's arrest, Clara thought the worst was finally over.
She was wrong.
Richard had changed the locks.
He had dismissed several household employees.
The family attorneys had begun reviewing every trust document.
Evelyn was awaiting trial.
Jonathan was being held without bail.
The house was quiet.
For the first time in years, Clara could walk through the halls without feeling watched.
Then Thomas came into the library carrying a thin black folder.
“Clara.”
She looked up.
“What happened?”
“We found another account.”
Richard, who was sitting beside the fireplace, immediately stood.
“What account?”
Thomas placed the folder on the desk.
“An offshore account opened thirteen years ago.”
Richard frowned.
“Under whose name?”
Thomas looked at Clara.
“Yours.”
Clara stared.
“My name?”
“Yes.”
“That isn't possible.”
Thomas opened the first page.
The account had been established under a private trust.
The beneficiary was Clara Vance.
The trustee was a law firm in Luxembourg.
The initial deposit was three million dollars.
Then another five million.
Then ten.
The balance had grown to nearly forty million.
Clara slowly sat down.
“Where did it come from?”
Thomas turned another page.
“That is the problem.”
The deposits originated from companies connected to Northstar Holdings.
Jonathan's network.
Clara's stomach tightened.
“He put money in my name?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Richard's expression hardened.
“To make it look like you were part of the scheme.”
Clara stared at him.
“So if the police found it…”
“They could accuse you of financial fraud.”
Thomas nodded.
“The account appears to have been designed as an insurance policy.”
“Against me.”
“Yes.”
Richard clenched his jaw.
“Jonathan was preparing to frame his own niece.”
Clara looked at the documents.
There were transfers dating back years.
Long before she suspected anything.
Long before the bracelet.
Long before Evelyn's accusations.
Jonathan had been building a second case against her in secret.
If the jewelry accusation failed, the offshore account would become evidence.
Clara whispered:
“He planned everything.”
Richard sat beside her.
“I should have known.”
“You couldn't.”
“I should have.”
Clara looked at him.
“You protected me tonight.”
“I should have protected you years ago.”
That sentence hurt.
But it also mattered.
Thomas continued.
“There is one more problem.”
“What?”
“The account was accessed yesterday.”
“By whom?”
The records showed a login from New York.
Then a name.
Mara Vance.
Clara froze.
“Who is Mara?”
Richard's face changed.
“I don't know.”
Thomas looked at the records.
“But someone using that name has access to your financial profile.”
Clara immediately called the bank.
The representative confirmed that someone had attempted to transfer the funds.
The transfer had failed.
But the attempt was recent.
Someone was still working.
Jonathan couldn't have done it from jail.
Evelyn couldn't.
So who?
Thomas traced the digital trail.
It led to a private office building in Manhattan.
A law firm.
The same law firm that had represented Jonathan six months earlier.
Clara stood.
“We go there.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
“I need answers.”
“You'll have them.”
“Dad.”
He looked at her.
“I'm coming with you.”
They drove into Manhattan.
The law office was empty when they arrived.
The receptionist said the attorney had left unexpectedly.
Thomas requested access to the records.
They found a locked drawer.
Inside was a second file.
Clara opened it.
It contained copies of her identification.
Bank documents.
Medical records.
Photographs.
Then a passport.
The photograph was Clara.
But the passport used a different name.
Mara Bell.
Clara's face went pale.
“Who is Mara Bell?”
Richard looked at the passport.
“I've seen this name.”
“Where?”
“Your grandfather's old records.”
Clara turned.
“What does it mean?”
Richard took a long breath.
“I think Jonathan wasn't working alone.”
Then the office lights went out.
A voice came from the hallway.
“You finally found it.”
Clara froze.
A man stepped into the doorway.
She recognized him immediately.
A former family attorney.
David Hale.
May you like
He smiled.
“Now we can talk.”
