Chapter 9: Where the Money Went
The investigators brought Fletcher into Corvina’s legal office the next morning.
His attorney sat beside him, but Fletcher kept looking at me.
I placed the last server report on the table.
“Where did Desmond send the money?” I asked.
Fletcher folded his hands.
“Offer me immunity.”
“I can’t.”
“Then offer to protect my pension.”
“You moved employee retirement contributions.”
“I replaced them.”
“Using stolen access to an account in my name.”
His attorney leaned close.
“Mr.
Vale, answer only what is necessary.”
Fletcher smiled at me.
“Your mother would have protected me.”
“My mother trusted you.”
“She owed me.”
“No.
She paid you generously.
You decided gratitude was beneath you.”
His smile disappeared.
The investigator opened a folder.
“We traced two million dollars to an offshore holding company.
The remaining funds were transferred three days ago.”
“To whom?” Celeste asked.
Fletcher looked at her.
“Desmond’s mother.”
I stared at him.
“She passed away six years ago.”
“Exactly.”
The account had been opened under the identity of a woman who was no longer alive.
Desmond expected the false ownership record to delay recovery for months.
The investigator turned his screen toward me.
“There’s a beneficiary,” he said.
“Desmond Ashcombe.”
Celeste pointed to a second name.
“Who is Laurel Mercer?”
Isolde sank into a chair.
“She’s Desmond’s former assistant,” she said.
“He told me she moved to Canada.”
The investigator made a call.
Ten minutes later, he put the response on speaker.
A woman answered.
“This is Laurel.”
“Ms.
Mercer, we’re calling about an account listing you as co-beneficiary.”
“I told Desmond I wanted nothing to do with it.”
“Why were you listed?”
“Because he needed someone with Canadian residency.
He offered me fifty thousand dollars to sign.”
“Did you?”
“No.
I kept the documents he mailed me.”
Desmond had prepared an escape account, but Laurel’s refusal left the transfer incomplete.
The funds remained frozen between institutions.
“Can the money be recovered?” Mara asked.
“All of it,” the investigator said.
“Subject to court approval.”
Mara gripped the edge of the desk.
“The employees won’t lose their retirement savings?”
“No.”
She covered her face.
Celeste wrapped both arms around her as a sob escaped.
“I thought we had failed them,” Mara said.
“You saved them,” I replied.
Mara reached for my hand.
“We saved one another.”
That afternoon, Desmond entered the same office with his attorney.
An investigator placed the transfer orders, forged emails, and server records in front of him.
Desmond didn’t sit.
“This is a negotiation,” he said.
“I’ll return the money in exchange for no charges.”
“It isn’t your money to return,” I said.
His attorney spoke quietly.
“The funds are already frozen.”
Desmond’s eyes moved to Fletcher.
“You told them.”
“The server told them,” Fletcher replied.
The investigator listed the charges under review: financial fr@ud, identity theft, evidence tampering, and conspiracy.
Fletcher faced the same inquiry, along with permanent removal from Ardent.
Desmond looked at me.
“Ask them for mercy.”
“You showed none to eight hundred families.”
“I’m still your husband.”
“My attorney filed this morning.”
He read the divorce petition placed beside the evidence.
“You’ll give me half of Ardent,” he said.
“The prenuptial agreement excludes inherited assets, and your documented misconduct ends your claim to spousal support.”
His attorney touched his sleeve.
“Desmond, say nothing else.”
Desmond pulled away.
“She planned this from the day we married.”
“No,” Celeste said.
“She spent twelve years hoping you would become worthy of her.”
The investigator opened the door.
Desmond stopped on the threshold and looked back at me.
“When they’re finished celebrating you, they’ll discover how cold you are.”
Celeste stepped beside me.
“She isn’t cold,” she said.
“She simply stopped burning herself to keep you warm.”
May you like
Desmond had no answer.
This time, the door closed behind him for good.
