Chapter 8 - The Price of a Perfect Life
At eight, I drove to the bakery beneath Mara's office to buy us breakfast. The young woman behind the counter asked whether I wanted an extra napkin, and kindness from a stranger nearly undid me.
Richard Vale called as I was returning upstairs.
“Mrs. Hartwell, I've instructed my office not to release investment funds,” he said. “But I need to know whether my daughter deliberately misled me.”
“Ask her about the notary,” I answered.
“I intend to. May I come to your attorney's office?”
An hour later, Richard arrived without his daughter. He laid out the investment summary Daniel had given him. It described a rapidly expanding property empire, projected rental income, and a refinancing that would allow Hartwell to acquire two more buildings.
“They made it sound as though Daniel personally controlled everything,” Richard said.
“He runs the day-to-day work. That's different.”
Richard nodded. “I've run companies forty years. I know the difference. I should have pressed harder.”
Then he pointed to a page labeled USE OF PROCEEDS. Of his proposed ten million dollars, nearly two million was earmarked for something called sponsor distributions and transaction expenses.
“What's that?” I asked.
Richard's face darkened. “Money that would leave the company at closing. Vanessa told me it was reimbursement for investments she and Daniel already made.”
I thought of the designer kitchen, the luxury SUV, and Vanessa's weekend trips. I had assumed their salaries covered those choices. Suddenly I didn't know.
Mara asked Richard for every version of the deal documents. He agreed, with one condition: “I won't be part of a private ambush. If my daughter lied, I want it proven.”
He left just before noon. Five minutes later Celia called me separately.
“Richard knows business,” she said. “I know Vanessa. When she feels trapped, she makes someone else look unstable.”
May you like
My stomach turned.
“Ellie, did you know she has been telling people you've been diagnosed with dementia?”
