Chapter 5
I stared at my phone long after Vanessa disconnected.
Someone inside my father's company had been helping Marcus.
The thought made me physically sick.
Bennett Heritage Holdings wasn't just a business.
It was the place where my parents built their dreams.
The company that paid for Elijah's funeral.
The company Mom helped save during the recession.
The company Dad had refused to sell even when larger firms offered millions.
And now someone inside those walls might have been helping Marcus steal from us.
I immediately called Patricia.
She answered on the second ring.
"Nia?"
"Vanessa called me."
Her voice changed.
"What did she say?"
I explained everything.
The Crescent Advisory connection.
The fake email account.
The warning about an insider.
Patricia listened carefully.
Then said, "Don't confront anyone."
I looked toward the dark office windows.
"But someone is still inside our company."
"I understand."
"How do we know they're not deleting evidence right now?"
"We'll take steps to preserve the records."
I took a breath.
Patricia continued.
"I want you to go home. Don't stay alone in that building."
I hesitated.
Then agreed.
Dad was waiting when I reached his house.
He opened the door before I knocked.
"Nia."
I stepped inside.
He hugged me.
I immediately started crying.
For days, I had been forcing myself to stay strong.
But in my father's arms, I finally let the fear show.
"Daddy, someone is helping him."
Dad held me tighter.
"I know."
I pulled back.
"What?"
He looked grim.
"Patricia called me."
I nodded.
He guided me into the living room.
Then sat beside me.
"We've started an independent forensic review."
My stomach tightened.
"Who do you suspect?"
He shook his head.
"Nobody yet."
I looked at him.
"Leonard?"
Dad's expression changed.
Leonard had been his closest business associate for decades.
He attended our family holidays.
He had carried Elijah's casket.
He had stood beside Dad at Mom's funeral.
I hated myself for even asking.
But someone had access.
Someone had approved payments.
Someone had made sure documents appeared legitimate.
Dad took a slow breath.
"We follow the evidence."
I nodded.
That night, I slept in my childhood bedroom.
The walls had been repainted years earlier.
But Mom's old quilt still covered the bed.
I curled beneath it.
And cried until morning.
The next day, Patricia arranged a meeting with the forensic accountants.
They worked through the records.
Payment approvals.
Electronic access logs.
Vendor registrations.
Email histories.
The deeper they looked, the more disturbing the pattern became.
Crescent Advisory Group had received substantial payments from our community development fund.
The company had been registered using an address connected to Vanessa.
But its bank account listed another authorized person.
Marcus Reed.
I stared at the report.
"They weren't even hiding it."
Patricia shook her head.
"They may have believed the records would never be examined this closely."
Then she pointed toward a different section.
Several payments had been approved through the login credentials of a senior employee.
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
Patricia looked at Dad.
He nodded slowly.
She turned the page.
Leonard Price.
I felt the room tilt.
"No."
Dad closed his eyes.
Leonard.
The man I had called Uncle Leonard since childhood.
The man who gave me my first office internship.
The man who told me I had inherited my mother's compassion.
His credentials had been used to authorize payments to Marcus and Vanessa.
I shook my head.
"He wouldn't."
Patricia looked at me carefully.
"We don't yet know whether he authorized them or someone misused his access."
I nodded.
But fear was growing.
Dad sat silently.
His face looked older.
I reached for his hand.
"Daddy."
He looked at me.
"We don't know yet."
He nodded.
But I could see the pain.
He was remembering every year of friendship.
Every sacrifice.
Every moment of trust.
Later that afternoon, Leonard arrived for a meeting.
Patricia and the accountants were present.
Dad asked him to explain the payments.
Leonard looked confused.
Then defensive.
He said he had approved legitimate consulting invoices based on documentation supplied by my department.
I stared at him.
"My department never requested those services."
He looked at me.
"Nia, the paperwork came through your office."
I shook my head.
"No."
He frowned.
"Your assistant submitted it."
My stomach dropped.
"My assistant?"
He nodded.
"Erica."
I stared at him.
Erica Simmons.
Twenty-six years old.
Smart.
Organized.
Quiet.
She had worked for me for eighteen months.
I trusted her.
She managed my schedule.
Handled vendor correspondence.
Prepared reports.
And had access to almost every document in my department.
My heart pounded.
"Erica?"
Leonard nodded.
"She said the consulting work was confidential because it involved a strategic partnership."
Patricia leaned forward.
"Do you have those communications?"
Leonard nodded.
"Yes."
He supplied them.
The emails appeared to come from Erica's account.
They requested approval of payments.
Attached invoices.
And referenced my supposed authorization.
I stared at the messages.
I had never seen them.
Patricia looked at Dad.
"We need to speak with Erica."
Dad nodded.
But when we called her, she didn't answer.
Her phone went straight to voicemail.
Human resources confirmed she had called in sick.
Then someone noticed something else.
Her company laptop hadn't connected to the network since the previous evening.
The exact time I discovered the Crescent Advisory payments.
My stomach tightened.
I looked at Dad.
"She knows."
He didn't answer.
Patricia instructed the company to preserve Erica's records and restrict unnecessary access.
Then she contacted investigators.
That evening, I returned to Dad's house.
I felt exhausted.
Betrayed.
Angry.
I had spent years believing the people closest to me would protect me.
Now every relationship seemed suspicious.
Dad found me sitting on the back porch.
He carried two cups of tea.
He placed one beside me.
Then sat down.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Finally, I asked, "Do you ever regret trusting people?"
Dad thought carefully.
"Sometimes."
I looked at him.
"How do you keep doing it?"
He smiled sadly.
"Because refusing to trust anyone would mean letting the people who hurt us decide how we live."
My eyes filled.
He continued.
"Trust should be earned. And when someone breaks it, there should be consequences."
I nodded.
"But that doesn't mean everyone will hurt you."
I leaned against his shoulder.
For the first time all day, I felt safe.
Then my phone rang.
Patricia.
I answered.
"Nia?"
Her voice sounded urgent.
"Erica contacted her attorney."
My heart raced.
"What did she say?"
Patricia paused.
"She wants to cooperate."
I sat straighter.
"Cooperate with what?"
"The investigation."
I looked at Dad.
He was watching me.
Patricia continued.
"She claims Marcus pressured her into helping him access company records."
I swallowed.
"How?"
There was a long silence.
Then Patricia said, "Erica says Marcus threatened to reveal something about her family."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
Patricia took a breath.
"Her younger brother has been receiving expensive medical treatment."
I closed my eyes.
"And?"
"Marcus allegedly told her that if she didn't help him, he'd make sure the financial assistance stopped."
I stared into the darkness.
Someone had used a sick child to pressure a young woman into helping steal money.
I felt sick.
Then Patricia added something even worse.
"Erica says Marcus wasn't acting alone."
My heart pounded.
"Who else?"
She hesitated.
"She claims Vanessa wasn't simply his partner in the scheme."
I gripped the phone.
"What was she?"
May you like
Patricia's voice became quiet.
"According to Erica, Vanessa was the one who recruited Marcus in the first place."
