Chapter 4 - The Blue Folder
"The work order matters," Ruiz said. "But I need you to understand that an accusation isn't proof of everything in that folder. We will follow the evidence."
"I know."
"Do you? Your mother has money, lawyers, and employees who rely on her. They'll have explanations ready."
"Then ask better questions than they expect."
Ruiz gave him a long look. "That's the plan."
Rosa had not returned to the house empty-handed. Before driving to the hospital, she'd slipped into the nursery to collect the sweater Emily always wore when she got cold. Inside the folded sweater was a blue plastic folder, its corners bent from being shoved behind a dresser.
Emily almost smiled when she saw it. "You remembered."
"You asked me to keep your secrets safe," Rosa said. "I should have asked sooner why you needed secrets."
The first pages contained maintenance requests from Morrow Court, a sixty-unit apartment building once featured proudly in every Whitmore charity brochure. Water ran through light fixtures. Stairwell alarms failed. Mold bloomed behind children's beds. A mother named Talia Greene had sent four letters begging for repairs before winter.
After those letters came bank summaries and invoices. The trust had set aside $4.2 million for safety improvements. Most of it had been paid to Cedar Gate Services, a company Emily couldn't find at the listed address.
"Where did you get these?" Daniel asked.
"The residents let me photograph the repair notices. The grant records were in the volunteer packet. I matched the dates." Emily swallowed. "Your mother caught me making copies. She said I was humiliating the family. Then she told me there wouldn't be a baby shower unless I learned to be grateful."
Daniel turned a page. There, beside an authorization approving Cedar Gate's contract, was his own signature.
He stared at it. He remembered a stack of routine approvals Graham had brought him during a late board meeting, while he was on a call with a lender. He'd signed because he'd been in a hurry.
Emily watched his face. "You approved it, didn't you?"
May you like
Daniel couldn't pretend otherwise. "I signed something. I didn't ask what it did."
Before she could answer, his phone rang. It was Margaret's attorney, calling to tell him the board had scheduled an emergency meeting about his wife's 'false accusations.'
