Chapter 9 - The Woman Who Smuggled Out the Truth|
Two days after the disastrous family dinner, a woman named Clara Quinn contacted Meredith's office.
She had worked in Calloway Commercial Group's accounting department for nine years.
I'd met her only a handful of times.
She was quiet, practical, and rarely attended company social events.
Her email was brief.
I have information concerning payments that were approved outside the normal accounting process. I would like to speak with counsel before providing anything.
Meredith arranged a meeting.
Clara arrived wearing a gray coat and carrying a small notebook.
She looked exhausted.
“I don't want to lose my job,” she said before sitting down.
Meredith nodded.
“We'll discuss your rights, your concerns, and appropriate ways to provide information. We won't ask you to take records you're not permitted to access.”
Clara glanced toward me.
“Mrs. Calloway, I'm sorry.”
I frowned.
“For what?”
“For believing what Ross said about you.”
I sat back.
“What did he say?”
Clara looked uncomfortable.
“That you had never been involved in the company. That your family made a small investment and spent years demanding money in return.”
I closed my eyes.
Ross hadn't merely erased my contribution.
He had rewritten it.
Clara continued.
“I was reviewing vendor reconciliations when I noticed Westbridge.”
My pulse quickened.
“What did you find?”
“Several invoices were marked as approved even though ordinary supporting documents were missing.”
“Who approved them?”
“Delia's department submitted them. But some approvals were processed through a special executive workflow.”
Meredith took notes.
“Which executives?”
Clara hesitated.
“Ross and Delia.”
I leaned forward.
“What about Tiffany?”
Clara opened her notebook.
“Tiffany submitted requests for certain payments and arranged correspondence with the vendors.”
I felt cold.
So all three were involved.
Clara continued.
“Last month, I questioned a large transfer. The next morning, my supervisor told me the issue was confidential and had already been resolved.”
“Did you accept that?” Meredith asked.
“At first. Then another invoice appeared.”
She wrote a transaction date and amount on a piece of paper.
Four hundred eighty thousand dollars.
Description: Property acquisition facilitation.
I frowned.
“What property?”
Clara looked directly at me.
“The Gold Coast condominium.”
My stomach dropped.
“That's impossible. I own it personally.”
“I understand.”
She explained that the payment appeared to have been described as part of an anticipated real estate transaction.
The counterparty documentation referenced a transfer agreement.
The same agreement Ross had tried to make me sign.
I stared at Meredith.
“He was already spending money based on a property transfer I never approved?”
“That appears to be one possible explanation,” Meredith replied. “We need to verify the nature of the payment.”
Clara nodded.
“There's more.”
She turned another page.
“A board presentation described the condo as a company-controlled asset expected to be available for executive housing.”
I felt sick.
Ross hadn't simply promised Tiffany my home.
He had apparently used the promised transfer to justify additional company expenditures.
Meredith asked Clara whether she would be willing to speak with an independent investigator under appropriate protections.
Clara hesitated.
Then nodded.
“I will.”
“Why?” I asked quietly.
Her eyes filled.
“Because my husband lost his job last month when the company announced cost reductions.”
I stared at her.
Clara continued.
“Ross said we couldn't afford to keep everyone.”
May you like
She swallowed.
“But somehow, we could afford a four-hundred-eighty-thousand-dollar payment for a condo the company didn't own.”
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