Chapter 14 - The Missing Thirty-Eight Thousand
The credit union in Delaware responded to Priya’s subpoena after two weeks. The account existed. It had been opened in Dad’s name and connected to Briarwood Renovations through an authorization signed by Derek.
The balance was $61,742.
“That could be the insurance remainder,” Priya said.
“Can we recover it?”
“Eventually, perhaps. First we need to prove the source of the funds.”
The records showed a deposit of $38,000 from Buckeye Ridge, followed by smaller deposits from Briarwood projects. The account had also paid $7,500 toward a house in Westerville. The property belonged to Derek’s mother.
“He bought his mother a house with the money?” Lauren asked when Priya showed her the statement.
“It looks like a down payment,” Priya said.
Lauren stared at the page. “He told me we were behind on rent because the company was failing.”
“Both could be true,” I said. “He may have been failing because he kept moving money.”
The next transfer was made to an account under the name M. Whitman. Mom’s initials. She shook her head when she saw it.
“I never opened that account.”
The account had received $3,200 and paid medical bills in her name. Dad had used it to make the finances look like Mom had access to the money. The account was actually controlled by him through online banking.
“He used your mother as a shield,” Priya said.
Mom looked down. “I let him.”
“No,” I said. “He made the account.”
“I ignored the signs.”
“That is not the same as consent.”
She nodded but did not look convinced.
Detective Nolan obtained a warrant for Dad’s office computer. The search found a recording of my voice. It was a voicemail I had left while driving, telling Dad, “If the insurance paperwork needs my approval, send it over.” The recording had been edited so the sentence ended after approval. The original voicemail continued: “I am not authorizing any loan or guaranty.”
There it was. The missing half of my voice.
The audio technician confirmed the edit. The file had been exported from a program installed on Derek’s laptop.
When the news reached Dad, he called me directly. I answered because Priya was present and recording.
“Why are you doing this to us?” he asked.
“Why did you cut my voicemail?”
“I was confused.”
“Why did you forge Mom’s power of attorney?”
“Derek handled the paperwork.”
“Why did you tell everyone I abandoned you?”
His breath rasped through the phone. “Because you did abandon us.”
“I paid your mortgage for three years.”
“You stopped.”
“After I discovered you used the money for Derek’s company.”
“You think money makes you innocent?”
“No. Evidence does.”
He was silent.
“Dad,” I said, “I wanted to save the house. You wanted to save your image. Those are not the same thing.”
“You are my daughter.”
“That is why I gave you chances.”
“And now?”
“Now I am giving the truth a chance.”
He hung up.
The lender formally released me from the second-lien guaranty pending final fraud findings. My credit report still carried the inquiry, and my savings were still nearly gone, but the immediate threat to my name eased.
There was a larger problem. The mortgage balance and arrears exceeded what my parents could afford. Even if the fraud case succeeded, the house could not remain theirs without a realistic plan.
Priya spread the numbers across her desk. “You have three options. Refinance in your parents’ names if they qualify, sell the house on the open market, or negotiate a structured transfer with a settlement.”
None of the options sounded like justice.
May you like
“What would you choose?” I asked.
She looked at me. “The option that gives you a future.”
