Chapter 6 - THE FALSE INVOICE WITH MY NAME ON IT
Gail read the invoice again.
Then she looked at me.
“Annette, have you received forty-two thousand six hundred dollars from anyone connected with the Bradford foundation?”
“No.”
“Have you ever submitted an invoice to them?”
“Never.”
“Then we need to preserve this document.”
She made a copy and placed the original report back in the library's grant file.
I sat opposite her, struggling to understand the cruelty of what had happened.
Evelyn had criticized my career for years.
Now somebody was using that same career to explain money that had vanished.
The accusation was no longer simply that I had stolen a bracelet.
I was being positioned as someone who had taken charitable funds intended for children.
Gail told me she would request verification from the foundation's independent board members.
I called Derek from my car.
When I explained the invoice, he went quiet.
Then he said, “I'm coming to get you.”
“I can drive.”
“I know. I just don't want you dealing with this alone.”
Twenty minutes later, he arrived.
We sat in his SUV outside the library.
He examined the copy.
“The company listed here doesn't exist in Ohio's business records,” he said after checking the public registry.
“Could it be registered somewhere else?”
“Possibly. But it shouldn't be using your name without your knowledge.”
He pointed toward the payment reference.
“There's an account number attached.”
Only the last four digits were visible.
0619\.
Derek frowned.
“I don't recognize it.”
“Could your father?”
“Maybe. But Vanessa handles most of the accounting.”
I looked toward him.
“Then we need to speak with Vanessa.”
He didn't seem enthusiastic.
Neither was I.
But the deeper we investigated, the clearer it became that Evelyn couldn't have handled every transaction alone.
Vanessa worked as the administrative manager for Bradford Properties.
She processed vendor payments, monitored rental income, and prepared reports for the family's accountant.
At Christmas dinner, she had been the person who first questioned Derek about his investments.
I now wondered whether that conversation had been planned.
We arranged to meet Vanessa at a coffee shop near downtown Dayton.
She arrived wearing an expensive camel-colored coat and looking as though she hadn't slept.
Her first words were not encouraging.
“If this is about Mom, I already know you're angry.”
Derek placed the invoice on the table.
“This is about Annette.”
Vanessa looked at it.
Her expression changed slightly.
“Where did you get that?”
“The library's grant file.”
She glanced toward me.
“Mom said you'd been doing occasional consulting for the foundation.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was so outrageous.
“Vanessa, your mother has spent six years mocking my job. Why would she suddenly pay me to do it?”
Vanessa looked down.
“I didn't think about that.”
“You didn't ask me?”
“Mom said it was private.”
Derek leaned forward.
“Did you authorize the payment?”
“I entered the vendor information.”
“Did you send the money?”
“No. Mom had final approval for foundation distributions.”
“Did you know the account belonged to Annette?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“I assumed it did.”
I felt anger rising.
“You assumed forty-two thousand dollars was being paid to someone you already believed was financially irresponsible?”
Her face reddened.
“I thought you were finally trying to make more money.”
I stood.
“That tells me everything I need to know.”
Derek touched my arm.
“Annette, wait.”
Vanessa looked genuinely shaken.
“Look, I know I've been awful to you.”
I said nothing.
“But I didn't plant that bracelet. I didn't know Mom was going to accuse you of stealing anything.”
“Then why did you help her question Derek about his investments?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Because the bank wants additional collateral.”
Derek's eyes narrowed.
“For what?”
“The commercial property loans.”
“How much?”
She looked toward the window.
“Enough that we could lose the company.”
The truth was beginning to emerge.
Evelyn needed Derek's money.
And she had apparently decided that humiliating me would make him easier to control.
Vanessa examined the invoice again.
Then she froze.
“What?” Derek asked.
She pointed toward the account number ending in 0619.
“I've seen that account before.”
“Where?”
Vanessa's face lost its color.
“It's the reserve account Mom told us she closed last spring.”
I leaned closer.
“Whose account?”
Vanessa looked at me.
“Bradford Property Management.”
Derek stared at his sister.
“Then Annette wasn't the recipient.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.”
May you like
Her voice dropped.
“Mom was sending the money back into our own company.”
