Chapter 11 - THE MAN BEHIND THE CHECKS
Graham Vale was a man who hugged people while counting what they owed him. He had helped finance Bennett House when the renovation went over budget. Owen called him a mentor. I remembered him calling my chair an unfortunate branding problem.
Leah explained the money trail at our dining table. The hotel owed Graham's investment firm two million dollars. Meanwhile, North Quay Access, a contractor controlled through another company by Graham, had collected more than a million dollars from Ruth's trust for improvements that barely existed.
"So he's being repaid twice," I said.
"And Serena approved the invoices," Leah answered. "There are transfers from the contractor to an account she controls. We're still tracing the rest."
Owen pressed his palms to his eyes. "I trusted both of them."
"That isn't a defense," Leah said gently.
"I know."
His lawyer advised him to disclose the unsigned work orders, the blanket authorization, and every payment. Owen did. He also stepped away from the company's financial decisions while an independent team examined the books.
Graham called within an hour.
"You're making a disaster out of a misunderstanding," he said on speaker. "Your sister has carried this family for years."
"A woman almost drowned," Owen replied. "My wife."
"Accidents happen. Defaults happen too. You don't want to discover how quickly I can take the hotel."
Graham ended the call. The room went quiet.
"There," I said. "Now he's threatened us in front of a lawyer."
Leah wrote down the exact words. "And now we keep working."
That night the independent technician recovered a sequence of rooftop snapshots from the outside backup. Fifteen minutes apart, most showed party lights and dark water. One showed my empty chair positioned beside the west edge before I sat in it.
Behind the chair stood Serena, one hand on the brake lever.
May you like
She wasn't smiling.
She was looking straight toward the security camera.
