Chapter 10 - The Treasurer's Silence
Bellwether Holdings was older than Bellwether Strategic Investments by almost a decade. The names were close enough to suggest a connection, but an address search led nowhere useful: a commercial registered-agent office and a trail of dissolved entities.
"It's a lead, not proof," Daniel reminded me.
The trust's treasurer, Tessa Rowan, had been placed on administrative leave. I'd assumed she helped steal the money. Then I received a handwritten envelope at Marisol's apartment.
Inside was a receipt for a certified letter mailed to the trustee three weeks earlier. It had been signed by Tessa. Under the receipt she had written: I asked them to freeze the account. Nobody listened.
Marisol read it over my shoulder. "Call her."
Tessa answered on the fourth ring. Her voice was low and tired.
"I can't discuss work. They're threatening to sue me."
"Did you sign off on the Bellwether payments?"
"My employee credentials appear on the record. That doesn't mean I approved them." She paused. "Please understand the difference."
"Where can we talk?"
"Not in person. Not yet. Get the access logs from the backup system, not the reports Patrick prepared. You'll see the approvals were entered while I was at my daughter's surgery."
I remembered the medical documents attached to the trustee's review packet. Tessa's leave form showed she had been at a children's hospital the morning of the second transfer. It was a fact that could be checked independently.
"Why didn't you report it sooner?"
"I did," she said. "Twice. Then Patrick told me my daughter might lose the insurance I needed to pay for her recovery."
My throat tightened. I had judged a stranger before asking what it cost her to speak.
"One more thing," Tessa whispered. "Your father's condition isn't in the trust summary. Ask Renee for the sealed instruction."
May you like
"What sealed instruction?"
"The one your husband tried to have destroyed yesterday."
