Chapter 9: The Forensic Accountant's Report
The report arrived on a Thursday morning, seventeen days after the freeze.
Margaret called at eight-fifteen.
I was already awake — had been since five, which was my daughter's preferred hour for practicing what felt like gymnastics against my ribs.
"I have the full report," Margaret said.
"Can you come in this morning?"
"I'll be there at ten."
I drove downtown with the windows down.
It was a clear morning, cool for the season.
I parked in the garage beneath Margaret's building and took the elevator to fourteen.
She was standing when I walked in.
That was new.
She waited until I sat.
Then she sat across from me and opened the folder.
"The forensic accountant found three separate sets of records," she said.
"The official books submitted to Daniel's attorney.
A second version stored on the company server — different figures, different dates.
And a third version on a personal laptop that was imaged as part of the freeze."
"Three versions," I said.
"The official version shows Carter Construction at roughly forty thousand dollars in assets, heavily indebted, essentially worthless.
The server version shows the same company at approximately six hundred thousand in real assets, with three active contracts currently generating income." She paused.
"The laptop version is the working file.
It shows every adjustment Daniel made over the past six weeks — what he changed, when he changed it, and what the original figures were before he touched them."
I looked at the table.
"He built a false version of the business to show the court," I said.
"Yes.
And he did it after someone warned him the petition was coming." Margaret looked at me steadily.
"Emma, this is no longer just a divorce matter.
I've already spoken with a colleague who handles financial crjmes.
With your permission, I'd like to refer the laptop records to her."
"Do it."
She nodded and made a note.
"There's one more thing," she said.
She turned to a page near the back of the folder.
"The LLC — Carter Construction Holdings.
The accountant traced all outgoing payments.
The sixty-two thousand to Ryan Mercer is confirmed.
But there were also four payments to a separate account that we hadn't identified before."
She slid the page toward me.
The account name was listed at the top.
*Emma R.
Carter — Personal Savings.*
I stared at it.
"Those are my deposits," I said slowly.
"From the property rental income."
"Yes," Margaret said.
"But look at the dates."
I looked.
The deposits into my personal savings account had been made on the same dates as transfers out of the LLC.
Same amounts.
Same days.
"He was routing money through your account," I said.
"To make it appear that you had knowledge of and access to the LLC funds," Margaret said.
"If this had gone to court without the forensic review, it would have looked like you were a participant."
The room was very quiet.
"He was going to blame me," I said.
"He was building the case to," Margaret said.
"Emma — I want you to understand what this means.
He didn't just take your money.
He spent six weeks constructing a version of events where you were complicit.
Where you would walk into court looking like a co-conspirator in your own financial abuse."
I sat with that for a long moment.
My daughter pushed against my ribs — one firm, insistent movement.
"What happens now?" I said.
"Now," Margaret said, "we let the crjminal referral do its work.
And we go back to the judge with everything."
She closed the folder.
"Daniel's attorney is going to want to settle the moment he sees this report," she said.
"Are you prepared for that conversation?"
"Yes," I said.
"What do you want?"
I thought about the pavilion.
The oak tree.
The twelve acres.
The four years.
"Full financial disclosure," I said.
"Return of every dollar transferred from the joint account.
The business valuation at the real figure.
And I want Linda's name in the fraud referral."
Margaret wrote it down without comment.
"And Daniel?" she asked.
I looked at the window.
Fourteen floors up, the city was quiet and clear.
May you like
"He can keep whatever he built that was actually his," I said.
"I just want what was mine."
