Chapter 2 - THE ACCOUNT PATRICIA SAID DIDN’T EXIST
The baby moved again inside the ambulance.
A single kick.
Then another.
Alyssa cried so hard the paramedic had to remind her to breathe.
At Banner University Medical Center Phoenix, fetal monitoring showed reassuring heart activity. There was no evidence of placental abruption, but Alyssa’s obstetrician kept her overnight because contractions had started after the fall.
Derek arrived forty minutes later.
Patricia did not.
“Where’s the check?” Alyssa asked.
Derek closed the hospital-room door.
“With Mom.”
“Why?”
“She needs it.”
“For what?”
“Her house.”
Patricia lived in a four-bedroom home in Scottsdale that Derek’s father had paid off before his death.
“What about the house?”
“Property taxes. Repairs. There’s a lien issue.”
“For twenty-three thousand dollars?”
Derek rubbed his forehead.
“Why are we doing this while you’re hooked to a monitor?”
“Because you took the money while I was eight months pregnant.”
“It was joint money.”
“No. Seventeen thousand came from my consulting income.”
“We’re married.”
Alyssa had heard that sentence whenever Derek wanted something to become theirs.
She heard different language whenever debt appeared.
His car loan was his.
His business expenses were his.
His mother was their responsibility.
“Tell me what P.M. Family Holdings is.”
Derek looked toward the fetal monitor.
“Mom’s LLC.”
“For what?”
“She uses it for the house.”
“Why does a seventy-percent-paid-off house need an LLC?”
“Can we not interrogate my mother right now?”
Alyssa watched him.
Derek had always been excellent at appearing offended before anyone could finish questioning him.
At thirty-six, he sold commercial insurance to medical practices and small manufacturers. People trusted him quickly. He remembered spouses’ names, children’s colleges, golf scores, preferred bourbon.
Alyssa had once considered that warmth one of his best qualities.
Lately she had begun noticing how often charm appeared immediately before missing information.
Her sister Megan arrived after midnight carrying clean clothes.
Derek left when Megan refused to go downstairs for coffee.
“Tell me exactly what happened,” Megan said.
Alyssa did.
Including the LLC.
Megan was a CPA.
Her expression changed at the name.
“What?”
“I’ve heard it before.”
“When?”
“Your tax return.”
Alyssa sat straighter.
“Why would Patricia’s LLC be on our taxes?”
“I don’t know if it was. Last April, you sent me a screenshot because you couldn’t understand a transfer Derek said was related to his mother. The memo line had PMFH.”
Alyssa remembered.
$6,500 had disappeared from their joint account.
Derek said Patricia’s air conditioner had failed.
Alyssa had been angry but ultimately let it go because Phoenix in July without air-conditioning could be dangerous.
“Could that have gone to the same LLC?”
“Probably.”
“How many times?”
Megan looked at her.
“That’s what you need to find out.”
The next morning, Alyssa was discharged with strict instructions to reduce activity and return immediately if bleeding, strong contractions, or decreased fetal movement occurred.
Before leaving, she opened the joint bank account.
Search: PM FAMILY.
Nine transfers appeared.
Not one.
Nine.
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They totaled $61,400.
And the first was dated almost three years earlier.
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