Chapter 7 - The Missing Hours
Reed's preliminary report answered one question and opened three more. Vanessa had signed a prenuptial agreement so restrictive that she would leave the marriage with nothing but what she earned herself. She had also covered three overtime shortages from her event-planning account whenever Beth claimed the payroll software was “down.” The florist bill listed reimbursements for Laurel, Owen, and a dishwasher hired for the engagement dinner. Beth had classified their hours as volunteer support for the foundation. “Adults don't volunteer without knowing it,” Reed said. I found Daniel in the sunroom, sitting before the dented silver tray. He had not even touched the toast. When I asked whether he knew Vanessa had paid the staff, he answered too narrowly. “I didn't know she used her own card.” That was not the same as saying he knew nothing. Vanessa was not chasing Whitmore money. She had been chasing missing money inside Whitmore systems. Yet the woman who protected workers had still degraded the person she believed had the least power. Her generosity did not erase her contempt; her contempt did not make her suspicions false. I asked Daniel what bookkeeping delay Vanessa had promised to ignore. He rubbed the dent in the tray with his thumb, the way he had as a child whenever he lied by omission. “Mom, the housing project is in trouble.” Before I could ask how much trouble, Beth walked into the sunroom despite being on leave. “Enough to ruin him,” she said. And perhaps us as well.
