Chapter 9 - MY FATHER'S SECRETMy father didn't deny it.
That was almost worse.
We confronted him in the same dining room where Natalie and I had eaten birthday cake as children.
Dad sat at the table with his hands folded.
Mom stood behind him.
I placed the investment agreement down.
“Explain.”
He looked at it.
Then at me.
“I invested with Eric.”
“One point two million dollars?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Eighteen months ago.”
“Why?”
“He came to me with an opportunity.”
“What opportunity?”
“Northlight.”
Natalie whispered, “Dad.”
He looked ashamed.
“I didn't know what he was doing.”
I couldn't believe how often I was hearing that sentence.
“Did you know Northlight was taking business opportunities from my company?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“He told me Northlight was separate.”
“And you believed him?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Dad's mouth tightened.
Because there was only one answer.
“Because you knew I'd object.”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
Mom stared at him.
“You told me that money went into municipal bonds.”
Dad closed his eyes.
Another betrayal.
Smaller.
Different.
Still betrayal.
Mom pulled out a chair.
“You lied to me?”
“I was going to tell you.”
She laughed once.
Everyone in my family seemed to have attended the same school for bad excuses.
“Were you sleeping with someone too?” Mom asked.
“Linda.”
“I'd like to know what other traditions we're observing.”
Even Natalie almost smiled.
Dad didn't.
He looked at me.
“Eric promised twenty percent returns.”
Daniel sighed.
“There it is.”
Dad bristled.
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds like someone promised twenty percent returns.”
“I thought I understood real estate.”
“You do,” I said. “Which is why you should have known better.”
Dad had spent thirty-eight years owning a regional commercial insurance business.
He wasn't financially ignorant.
But Eric knew how to flatter men.
Especially men who wanted to believe they were still sharper than their adult daughters.
“What did Eric tell you about me?”
Dad's silence answered.
“What did he say?”
“That you were becoming too conservative.”
I laughed.
“He said Bennett Heritage was missing opportunities because you were afraid of debt.”
“And you believed him?”
“I thought there might be some truth.”
There it was.
Eric hadn't simply stolen money.
He had cultivated doubt around me.
At the board.
At the bank.
With my father.
With Natalie.
He built his fraud socially before he built it financially.
“You invested because you believed he was the better businessman.”
Dad shook his head.
“No.”
“Say it.”
“Claire—”
“Say it.”
He finally looked at me.
“I thought maybe Eric had instincts you didn't.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For finally being honest.”
I stood.
Dad grabbed my wrist gently.
“Claire.”
I looked down at his hand.
He released me.
“I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I could lose everything.”
“No.”
He stared.
“Your investment is probably gone,” I said. “But you won't lose everything.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Mom owns half your retirement assets, and unlike everyone else in this family, I'm not going to destroy innocent people to make a point.”
Mom started crying.
Dad looked broken.
For one dangerous second, I wanted to comfort him.
Then I remembered that while Eric was building a case against me, my own father had secretly invested in him.
I stepped away.
Daniel reviewed Dad's records.
And discovered something strange.
The $1.2 million investment had not all reached Northlight.
Only $700,000 had.
The remaining $500,000 disappeared through another entity.
“Eric skimmed his own investor,” Daniel said.
Dad's jaw clenched.
“He stole from me too.”
I looked at him.
“Does that make you feel better?”
“No.”
“Good.”
But the missing half-million revealed something vital.
The shell company that received it had also paid a consulting retainer to Thomas Vail.
The bank officer.
My blood turned cold.
“Thomas?”
Daniel nodded.
“Three payments. Totaling $84,000.”
“For what?”
“Consulting.”
Rebecca laughed from the doorway.
“Nobody in this story consults this much.”
Thomas had personally handled the suspension of our credit line.
He was also receiving money connected to Eric.
That changed everything.
Rebecca immediately contacted the bank's general counsel rather than Thomas.
Within hours, Thomas was placed on administrative leave.
By the following morning, investigators had discovered he had been feeding Eric internal information about our loan reviews.
He had helped Eric understand exactly how far he could push Bennett Heritage before triggering bank scrutiny.
Now the scheme wasn't simply marital fraud.
It involved bank corruption.
Federal investigators became interested.
Eric stopped calling.
That worried me more than the threats.
He disappeared.
His home office was empty.
His phone was off.
His car was found at Los Angeles International Airport.
No flight record under his name.
Natalie sat in our temporary legal office, pale.
“He ran.”
“Maybe.”
“He wouldn't leave without money.”
Daniel agreed.
We froze every account we knew.
But the Cayman entity remained complicated.
Mark had access information, but transfers required another authentication key.
“Who has it?” I asked.
“Eric.”
“Then he's gone.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not necessarily.”
“Why?”
“Because someone initiated a transfer last night and failed authentication twice.”
“From where?”
“Northlight's operating account into the offshore entity.”
“How much?”
“$3.1 million.”
Natalie whispered, “Oh my God.”
“Could Eric do it remotely?”
“Yes.”
“So he's trying to empty everything.”
Daniel nodded.
“But he failed.”
“Why?”
“Second-factor authentication.”
“Sent where?”
He looked at Natalie.
“To the phone assigned to Northlight's trust beneficiary administrator.”
“What does that mean?”
Her face changed.
Slowly.
“Oh.”
“What?”
Natalie reached into her purse.
She removed an old phone.
“I thought this was just a phone Eric gave me for emergencies.”
Daniel stared at it.
“When did he give you that?”
“Three months ago.”
“Turn it on.”
She did.
Thirty-seven unread messages appeared.
Among them were authentication codes.
Eric had made Natalie part of the financial structure without explaining it.
“Don't touch anything,” Daniel said.
Too late.
The phone rang.
Eric.
Everyone froze.
Natalie stared at me.
I nodded.
She answered.
“Hello?”
“Finally.”
Eric sounded furious.
“Where are you?”
“Doesn't matter.”
“You have the phone.”
“Yes.”
“I need the code.”
“What for?”
“Natalie, don't start.”
“What is the money?”
“Our money.”
“No. Whose money?”
Silence.
Then his voice softened.
“Baby, listen to me.”
Natalie flinched at the word baby.
“We can still fix this.”
“How?”
“Give me the code.”
“And then?”
“I'll come get you.”
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“Are you leaving?”
“With you.”
Natalie's eyes filled.
“What about Claire?”
He laughed.
“What about her?”
I stood two feet away.
He had no idea.
Natalie swallowed.
“And the company?”
“It's finished.”
I felt something inside me turn to ice.
“What about the employees?”
“Not our problem anymore.”
Natalie's tears spilled.
Eric continued.
“The money overseas is enough. You, me, the baby. We disappear for a while.”
“And if the baby isn't yours?”
Silence.
A long one.
Then:
“It will be.”
“How can you know?”
“Because that's what the paperwork will say.”
Natalie closed her eyes.
Daniel wrote a note.
Keep him talking.
She asked, “Where should I meet you?”
A pause.
Then Eric gave her an address.
A marina in San Pedro.
“Bring the phone.”
“I will.”
“And Natalie?”
“Yes?”
“Come alone.”
He disconnected.
The room exploded into movement.
Rebecca called federal investigators.
Daniel copied the phone's data.
Dad demanded to go with us.
“No,” I said.
“Claire—”
“No.”
Natalie stood.
“I have to go.”
“Absolutely not.”
“He'll know if I don't.”
Rebecca looked at her.
“You will not meet him without law enforcement coordination.”
Natalie placed both hands over her stomach.
“For once, I'm going to clean up something I helped create.”
I stared at her.
This wasn't forgiveness.
But maybe it was the beginning of accountability.
An hour later, we were driving toward the marina.
What none of us knew was that Eric had lied again.
He wasn't planning to take Natalie with him.
May you like
He needed the phone.
And once he had it, he had already arranged to leave her behind.
