Chapter 8 - The Christmas Ledger"The inventory is evidence," Naomi said. "Nobody touches it until we know who owns it and why it was moved."
We called the storage company. The manager refused to tell us anything without the renter's consent or legal process. Naomi filed a preservation notice and started contacting the art fund's board.
Mom had established the fund after a fire destroyed the elementary school's art room. It covered supplies, transportation, and small scholarships. Grandma chaired the board. Dad was its treasurer until he stopped attending meetings during his illness. Vanessa had volunteered to manage the paperwork.
"I handed her the checkbook," Grandma said miserably. "I thought she was helping."
An accountant named Evelyn Marsh brought us the last twelve months of financial statements. The fund should have held nearly sixty thousand dollars. Its current balance was eleven thousand, four hundred and six.
"We funded twenty-two children this year," I said. "Where's the rest?"
Evelyn highlighted several withdrawals bearing the description HOLIDAY COMMUNITY OUTREACH. One was for eighteen thousand, four hundred dollars, transferred to a company named Winter Hearth Events.
"Vanessa's gingerbread business," Dad said.
"She has a business?" Grandma asked.
"She told me she wanted to do special events someday. I didn't know she'd registered one."
The payments were authorized using an account login assigned to my father. He shook his head. "Vanessa knew my password."
Naomi spoke carefully. "That doesn't settle whether she used it without permission. You need to tell us everything you signed, even the things you regret."
Dad agreed to give her his phone and emails. He looked exhausted, but for the first time he didn't ask me to be quiet.
When we left, a message was waiting on Grandma's voicemail. A woman spoke quickly and hung up without a name.
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"Ask who notarized the papers. He doesn't work at that office anymore. They fired him the morning after Pearl supposedly came in."
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