Chapter 9 - THE COLLATERAL MARCUS NEVER OWNED
Marcus had pledged his Farwell Millwork shares.
Those were his.
He had also represented that certain company receivables supported his personal repayment capacity.
Those were not.
His lender had not automatically acquired the receivables.
The language was complicated and its enforceability disputed.
But Marcus had provided internal company financial schedules to obtain personal credit.
That alone was serious.
Thomas Reed was furious.
“You gave a private lender our customer receivables?”
Marcus sat across the conference table with his lawyer.
“I provided evidence of income.”
“You provided confidential company information.”
“I was trying to refinance debt.”
“Your debt.”
Marcus looked toward Nora.
“Are you enjoying this?”
“No.”
That answer seemed to anger him more.
The forensic accountant found another problem.
Several customer deposits had been temporarily moved into an account Marcus controlled before being returned days or weeks later.
Most of the money was back.
Some transfers matched gambling dates.
Marcus insisted he never intended to permanently take company funds.
Nora believed him.
That did not make it acceptable.
He had treated company money like a bridge across his private emergencies.
Each time he expected to replace it before anyone noticed.
Until the bridge became too long.
The company’s outside counsel advised the managers to notify its bank and insurer of potential financial-control issues.
Nobody wanted to.
They did it anyway.
The bank did not close the company.
It requested updated controls and temporarily reduced borrowing flexibility.
That hurt.
A planned equipment purchase was delayed.
Hiring froze.
Employees began asking questions.
Consequences spread beyond the Farwell family exactly as Marcus had warned.
The difference was that Marcus had caused the risk, not Nora’s investigation.
Elaine came to Maple Street carrying a casserole she had no appetite to eat.
“I keep thinking if I’d said no the first time…”
Nora put two plates on the table.
“You would have saved yourself money.”
“Maybe more.”
Nora did not reassure her.
Elaine looked around.
“Your father knew, didn’t he?”
“Some of it.”
“He never told me.”
“Would you have believed him?”
Elaine’s eyes filled.
The answer was obvious.
After dinner, Gerald arrived unexpectedly.
He carried no leather folder this time.
Only a small notebook that had been found in Harold’s desk at the millwork office.
Nora felt immediately wary.
“I don’t want a dead man solving everything.”
“He doesn’t.”
Gerald placed it down.
“It contains no confession. No final instructions.”
“Then what?”
“A list of dates.”
Harold had written brief entries beside bank meetings, conversations with Marcus and Nora’s caregiving appointments.
One line repeated three times.
M says N already knows.
Nora frowned.
“Marcus told Dad I knew?”
Gerald nodded.
“Knew what?”
“We don’t know.”
Nora looked at Marcus’s name.
Then at her own initial.
For months Harold may have believed Nora knew about something Marcus had concealed.
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Which meant part of Harold’s silence might not have been protection.
It might have been based on a lie.
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