Chapter 4 - THE MONEY THAT NEVER REACHED THE CHILDREN
“Three hundred forty thousand dollars?”
I repeated the number because I couldn't understand how money could be listed as paid when my library had received nothing.
Derek examined the report again.
“That figure is the total winter allocation. It isn't necessarily one payment.”
“Then where did it go?”
“That's what we need to establish.”
I appreciated his caution.
But I was beginning to recognize a pattern.
Evelyn had questioned Derek's investments.
She had become furious when I mentioned the children's fund.
Then she had planted a valuable bracelet in my coat.
Those events no longer seemed separate.
The next morning, snow continued falling, but the worst of the storm had passed.
A deputy arrived at our hotel to document the pouch and collect the bracelet.
I watched as she opened it.
Inside lay a delicate gold bracelet set with pale blue sapphires.
I recognized it immediately.
Evelyn wore it at nearly every major family celebration.
The deputy photographed it, recorded its condition, and secured it as evidence.
Derek provided the original security recordings and the system's recording information.
The deputy made no promises.
She explained that investigators would compare the footage with everyone's statements before determining whether criminal charges were appropriate.
Still, for the first time since Christmas dinner, I felt someone was listening.
Afterward, Derek and I drove home along carefully plowed roads.
Lily asked for pancakes.
We made pancakes.
We sat at our little kitchen table in our pajamas.
For half an hour, we pretended Christmas had been ordinary.
Then Lily looked at me.
“Grandma mad at me?”
My heart sank.
“No, baby. You didn't do anything wrong.”
“Because I spilled water?”
I pushed her curls away from her forehead.
“You didn't spill it. And even if you had, accidents happen.”
She considered that.
“Can I still have Christmas?”
Derek lifted her onto his lap.
“Of course. Christmas belongs to you, too.”
That evening, we opened the presents we'd left beneath our tree.
But when Lily fell asleep, the investigation resumed.
Derek contacted Richard and asked to meet somewhere away from the estate.
Richard agreed.
We chose a small diner near the county courthouse.
When he arrived, I barely recognized him.
His shoulders were rounded.
His face looked exhausted.
He didn't order anything.
Instead, he placed both hands on the table.
“Annette, I'm ashamed of myself.”
I waited.
“I watched my wife humiliate you. I watched her frighten Lily. And I said nothing.”
“Why?”
Richard looked toward Derek.
“Because I've spent years avoiding arguments with your mother.”
Derek's response was quiet.
“Dad, avoiding arguments doesn't make them disappear.”
“I know that now.”
Richard turned back to me.
“I'm sorry. I should have stood beside you.”
His apology mattered.
But there was something else I needed.
“What happened to the reading fund?”
He looked away.
Derek leaned forward.
“Dad.”
Richard took a folded paper from his coat.
It was a photocopy of an old photograph.
In the picture, a silver-haired woman stood outside a modest brick library, surrounded by smiling children.
She wore the same sapphire bracelet.
“That's your grandmother Eleanor,” Richard told Derek.
I recognized the building.
It was the library's original children's wing.
“Eleanor loved that place,” Richard continued. “She established the reading fund because she grew up in a family that couldn't afford books.”
I remembered hearing about Eleanor during my first year working at the library.
She had insisted that every child, regardless of family income, should have access to stories.
“Then why hasn't her foundation paid us?” I asked.
Richard rubbed his forehead.
“Because Bradford Properties has been losing money.”
Derek went completely still.
“How much?”
Richard swallowed.
“A commercial building needed emergency repairs last spring. Insurance covered less than we expected. We were struggling to meet payroll.”
“And?”
“Evelyn suggested a temporary loan from the foundation's unrestricted reserves.”
Derek frowned.
“The children's fund is restricted.”
“I know.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“I told her that.”
“Then what happened?”
“I approved ninety thousand dollars, believing it could be repaid within sixty days.”
Derek stared at him.
“You signed it?”
“Yes.”
The diner seemed suddenly too quiet.
Richard's voice broke.
“That was my mistake. I thought I was protecting the employees who depend on us.”
I looked at the photograph of Eleanor.
Her bracelet gleamed beneath the winter sunlight.
“Was the money repaid?”
Richard shook his head.
“Not all of it.”
“How much more was taken?”
“I don't know.”
Derek leaned back.
For the first time, he looked frightened rather than angry.
Richard reached into his pocket again.
“I kept my own record of that first transfer. Yesterday, I compared it with the foundation summary.”
He slid a handwritten ledger page across the table.
I counted seven transactions.
Only the first carried Richard's initials.
The remaining six were marked with Derek's name.
Richard looked at his son.
“Derek, I signed the first transfer.”
May you like
He tapped the other entries.
“But somebody used your name to authorize the next six.”
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