Chapter 7 - The Company That Existed Only on Paper|
Westbridge Advisory Partners sounded like a respectable financial consulting firm.
Its website featured photographs of glass office towers, smiling executives, and impressive descriptions of strategic growth.
There was only one problem.
Nobody on Meredith's team could establish that it had performed the work Ross's company was paying for.
The invoices were vague.
Business optimization.
Vendor coordination.
Regional performance consulting.
Every description sounded important.
None explained what had actually been delivered.
Meredith hired an independent forensic accountant named Marcus Bell.
Marcus was a quiet man in his early fifties who had spent decades investigating corporate fraud and disputed financial transactions.
He examined the invoices without much expression.
After nearly an hour, he leaned back.
“These payments warrant further investigation.”
I sat forward.
“How much?”
“Westbridge received approximately one point six million dollars over eighteen months.”
I stared at him.
“From Calloway Commercial Group?”
“From its operating subsidiaries, according to the records we've reviewed.”
Meredith crossed her arms.
“Any legitimate contracts?”
“We have copies of agreements, but the supporting documentation is incomplete.”
Marcus opened another file.
“There's also an interesting pattern. Several Westbridge invoices were approved shortly before payments to personal vendors.”
“What personal vendors?” I asked.
“Luxury travel companies, residential service providers, and high-end retailers.”
My stomach tightened.
Tiffany's apartment.
Her Mercedes.
The bracelet.
I thought about every time Ross told me the business needed more money.
Every family vacation he'd canceled.
Every evening he'd insisted he was working late.
“Can we prove the money ended up with Tiffany?” I asked.
“Not yet. We need the receiving account records and underlying contracts.”
Meredith nodded.
“We'll pursue the records available under the ownership agreements and through the appropriate legal process.”
I looked at the invoices again.
Then noticed an unfamiliar name.
Delia Calloway.
My sister-in-law.
She was listed as the internal contact on several Westbridge service agreements.
I frowned.
“Why is Delia involved?”
Marcus looked up.
“Does she work for the company?”
“She supervises vendor relations.”
“Then she'd likely have some responsibility for processing these contracts.”
I stared at the page.
Delia had spent years treating me like an unemployed housewife.
At every family dinner, she reminded everyone how much she contributed to Ross's success.
Now her name appeared on payments that nobody could explain.
I called Meredith's attention to an authorization page.
“Look at the approval dates.”
She leaned closer.
Three invoices had been approved on weekends.
Two were approved during a holiday closure.
The same employee credentials appeared on all five.
Delia's.
Meredith frowned.
“That isn't conclusive, but it gives us a specific set of records to request.”
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
Then Caroline entered the conference room.
“Meredith, we've received a response from Ross's outside counsel.”
She handed her an email.
Meredith read it.
Her expression tightened.
“What is it?” I asked.
She looked up.
“Ross is refusing further voluntary access to the records.”
I stared at her.
“Can he do that?”
“He can refuse. Whether the trust is entitled to compel production is a different question.”
I took a breath.
Then Caroline added:
“There's another document attached.”
Meredith opened it.
Ross was proposing an emergency amendment to the company's ownership agreement.
Its effect would be to remove several of the trust's approval protections.
I looked at Meredith.
“He's trying to change the rules?”
She nodded.
“And he wants the amendment approved before the end of the month.”
Suddenly, the reason for the rushed divorce settlement became much clearer.
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Ross wasn't simply trying to get rid of his wife.
He was trying to remove the person whose approval rights stood between him and whatever he planned next.
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