Chapter 8: What Daniel Didn't Want Me to Know
I called Daniel the next morning at seven.
He picked up before the second ring.
"Nathan, thank you—"
"I have eleven minutes before the children wake up," I said.
"Say what you need to say."
A pause.
I heard him exhale.
"The investment," he said.
"It wasn't random.
I want you to understand that.
The man I gave the money to — his name is Ray Coulter.
He ran a private equity fund.
Small scale, but his returns were documented.
I checked them.
I did my due diligence, Nathan.
This wasn't me being reckless."
"Then what was it?"
"It was Ray lying," Daniel said.
"The returns were fabricated.
The fund was a sham.
He's done it to at least four other investors that I've since found out about." A pause.
"I'm not the only one he took.
And I'm not the only one who didn't see it coming."
I said nothing.
"I filed a report," Daniel said.
"Two weeks ago.
Before you found out any of this.
I reported Ray Coulter to the state financial crimes division.
I have a case number." His voice was tighter now.
"I was trying to get the money back through the proper channel before I had to tell you it was gone.
I wasn't running from it, Nathan.
I was trying to fix it."
"Without telling me."
"Yes.
Without telling you.
Because I was ashamed." He paused.
"Because I was the one who convinced Sarah it was safe, and when it went wrong, I didn't want to be the reason your family fell apart."
I stood in the kitchen with my hand around a cup of coffee that had gone cold.
"The financial crimes report," I said.
"Does it include documentation of how the funds were sourced?"
A beat of silence.
"Yes.
Sarah's authorization of the transfer is in the paperwork."
"Which means when investigators look at that report, they'll see that funds were moved from our joint account without my consent."
"Nathan—"
"That's not an accusation.
That's a fact that's already in writing.
You understand that."
"Yes," he said quietly.
"And the car," I said.
"Were you actually going to sell it?"
A long pause.
"I spoke to a collector," Daniel said.
"I got a valuation.
I was considering it.
But I had not made a decision." He paused.
"And I was going to bring it to you and Gail.
I know how that sounds now.
But I swear to you that was my intention."
"You spoke to a collector without telling Gail or me."
"Yes."
"That's the part that's hardest for me to accept," I said.
"Not the mistake with the money.
Mistakes happen.
But going behind both of us on something Dad left to all three of us — that wasn't protecting anyone, Daniel.
That was deciding your judgment was worth more than ours."
He didn't answer.
"I've spoken to Martin," I said.
"He's advising me on all of it."
"Is he going to—" Daniel stopped.
Started again.
"Are you pressing charges?"
"That's not a decision I've made yet."
"Nathan." His voice broke slightly.
"I'm sorry.
I know that doesn't fix anything.
But I am.
For all of it.
For the money, for the car, for not telling you, and for—" He stopped again.
"I didn't know what was happening to Maya.
I want you to believe that."
"You knew something was wrong," I said.
"I told you three weeks ago."
"I thought—"
"You told me kids go through phases."
Silence.
"I should have asked more," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"You should have."
Down the hall, I heard a door open.
Small footsteps.
Cora, padding toward the kitchen.
"I have to go," I said.
"Nathan.
What do I do?"
I looked at Cora as she appeared in the doorway — hair wild, still half-asleep, holding the edge of the door frame.
"Start by calling Gail," I said.
"Today.
Before she hears anything from anyone else.
Tell her everything.
Don't protect yourself.
Just tell her the truth." I paused.
"After that, cooperate fully with the financial crimes investigators.
If they need anything from you, give it.
Don't make them work for it."
"And us?" he said.
"You and me?"
Cora shuffled across the kitchen and pressed herself against my side.
I put my arm around her automatically.
"I don't know yet," I said honestly.
"But I'm not going to decide anything while I'm angry.
That's the best I can offer you right now."
"That's fair," he said quietly.
"That's more than fair."
I ended the call.
Cora looked up at me.
"Who was that?"
"Uncle Daniel."
She considered this.
"Is he in trouble?"
I looked down at her.
Four years old, and somehow she already knew the shape of things.
"A little bit," I said.
"But he's working on fixing it."
She nodded seriously and held out her arms.
I picked her up.
"Can we have eggs?" she said into my shoulder.
"Yeah," I said.
May you like
"We can have eggs."
And for ten minutes, standing at the stove with Cora on my hip, that was the only thing that needed to be true.
