Chapter 11: What Monday Brought
Carol filed at nine a.m.
Central time, which was four a.m.
in Maui.
By the time I woke up, three things had already happened.
The insurance commissioner's office had flagged the forged application for immediate review.
The forensic accountant Carol used had confirmed that the $34,000 in transfers matched a pattern consistent with systematic misappropriation.
And the criminal attorney — a woman named Grace Okafor who Carol described as meticulous and relentless — had agreed to take the case.
Carol called me at seven a.m.
Maui time.
"Grace wants to speak with you today if possible," she said.
"She's reviewed the documents.
She says the forgery alone is sufficient for a criminal referral.
Combined with the wire transfers and the LLC structure, she believes the state's attorney will be interested."
"How long does something like this take?"
"Grace says if the state's attorney moves quickly, we could see charges within sixty days.
Possibly sooner.
The paper trail is unusually clean.
Jessica was careful, but she wasn't careful enough."
"She didn't expect me to look," I said.
"No," Carol said.
"She expected you to trust."
I thought about that for a moment.
"Carol.
Kevin's name is on the joint account.
What is his exposure?"
"Grace has reviewed that too.
Kevin was a signatory, but the transfers were initiated from a device registered to Jessica, at times when Kevin was documented to be elsewhere — at work, at school events.
There's no indication he authorized or benefited from the diverted funds.
Grace believes he is a victim in this, not a participant."
I exhaled.
"He'll still need to cooperate fully," Carol said.
"But she doesn't anticipate charges against him."
"He will cooperate," I said.
"Fully."
"I know," Carol said.
"He called me this morning, actually.
Before I called you.
He wanted to know how to help."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
"What time is Grace available?"
"Two p.m.
your time.
I'll send you the call details."
I spent the morning on the lanai with coffee and the sound of the ocean, going over everything I knew in the order I knew it, the way I used to prepare for a difficult case.
By the time Grace Okafor's name appeared on my screen at two o'clock, I was ready.
She was direct, thorough, and asked excellent questions.
We spoke for ninety minutes.
By the end, she had everything she needed.
"Dr.
Calloway," she said, "I want to be transparent with you.
This process will be uncomfortable.
Jessica will almost certainly retain aggressive counsel.
There may be attempts to reframe the narrative — to suggest the transfers were authorized, that the signature was a clerical error, that the LLC was a legitimate estate planning vehicle."
"I understand."
"The evidence is strong.
But I want you prepared for the possibility that Jessica will fight this."
"She will," I said.
"She's been planning for a long time.
She won't give up easily."
"No," Grace said.
"People who plan this carefully rarely do."
After the call, I sat quietly for a while.
Then my phone lit up with a number I recognized.
Jessica.
I stared at her name on the screen.
She had never called me directly.
Not once in seven years of marriage to my son.
All communication had gone through Kevin, or arrived as a text so brief it barely qualified as contact.
I answered.
"Jessica."
"Ruth." Her voice was composed, but there was something underneath it — a tightness she couldn't quite control.
"I think we should talk."
May you like
"All right," I said.
"Talk."
