Chapter 9: Monday Morning, Nine O'Clock
Patricia Osei's office was on the fourteenth floor of a building on Michigan Avenue with a view of the lake that felt completely indifferent to what was happening inside it.
She was younger than I expected.
Early forties, sharp suit, a desk with nothing on it except a laptop and a printed folder with my name on the tab.
"The screenshots were very clear," she said.
"Forty-three transfers.
The pattern is consistent enough to be intentional."
"Is it fraud?"
"In Illinois, deliberately diverting marital assets into a private account without disclosure is treated seriously in divorce proceedings.
Whether it rises to criminal fraud depends on what the money was actually used for." She opened the folder.
"The payments to Lauren Calloway are interesting.
If he represented to her that the funds came from an outside investor, that's a misrepresentation.
It may not be criminal, but it strengthens the picture of deliberate concealment."
"What do I do now?"
"That depends on what you want." She folded her hands.
"Do you want to save the marriage?"
I looked at the lake through the window.
"I don't know yet."
"Then here's what I recommend regardless of that decision.
We file a formal request for financial disclosure.
Every account, every asset, every business interest.
He is legally required to respond.
If Hargrove Consulting LLC is a shell, that becomes part of the record.
If it isn't, we find out what it actually is."
"And if I decide I want a divorce?"
"Then we're already three steps ahead."
"And if I decide I want to try to repair things?"
"Then you have documentation that ensures he cannot do this again without consequences.
Either way, you are protected." She looked at me steadily.
"Mrs.
Hargrove, your sister spent three weeks building this file for you.
She did it because she felt she owed you a form of protection she failed to give you before.
I think you should use it."
I thought about Lauren on the floor of our childhood bedroom, both of us sixteen and fourteen, whispering in the dark after our parents had gone to sleep.
"File the disclosure request," I said.
Patricia nodded and made a note.
"There's one more thing," she said.
"Michael's attorney contacted my office this morning."
I looked up.
"He already has an attorney?"
"He retained one over the weekend.
His attorney called to request a conversation about a possible settlement before any formal proceedings begin." She paused.
"That tells us something."
"It tells us he's scared."
"It tells us he knows the account is a problem." She closed the folder.
"I told his attorney we would be in touch."
I stood up.
Picked up my bag.
"Tell them we'll talk," I said.
"After the disclosure request is filed.
Not before."
May you like
Patricia Osei looked at me with something that might have been approval.
"I'll have it filed by end of day," she said.
