Chapter 6 - THE MAN BEHIND NORTHSTAR|
By ten o'clock, Founders' Night had become an emergency meeting.
The guests had been asked to remain available as witnesses, though several had already retreated to the adjoining library. Aunt Marjorie contacted the independent trust administrator, while the family attorney requested copies of every disputed document.
Grant refused to cooperate.
He paced beside the fireplace, making phone calls in a voice too low for anyone to hear clearly. Each time I looked at him, he seemed less like the man I had married and more like a stranger wearing a familiar face.
Then the front door opened.
Daniel Mercer entered carrying a dark leather briefcase.
He was in his early fifties, with silver at his temples and the calm manner of someone who had learned not to confuse urgency with panic. He greeted Aunt Marjorie, nodded to the trustees, and placed three folders on the table.
Grant stared at him.
"What is he doing here?"
"Providing the financial review you requested through your own statements," Daniel answered.
"I never requested anything."
"Evelyn did. The records concern accounts bearing her name and transactions involving the Hawthorne Foundation."
Grant looked at me.
"You hired an investigator?"
"A forensic accountant."
"Same difference."
"No," Daniel said. "One looks for people. The other follows money."
A few guests exchanged uncomfortable glances.
Daniel opened the first folder.
"Northstar Heritage Consulting was registered fourteen months ago. Its public filings list a commercial mailbox in Providence and a management company connected to an office used by Grant Hawthorne's investment group."
"That proves nothing," Grant snapped.
"Agreed. A shared business address does not establish misconduct. That's why I reviewed the transactions."
Daniel laid out a timeline.
Payments from a foundation account had gone to Northstar under consulting agreements. Some invoices described preservation assessments for properties the foundation had never approved for review. Others referenced work for which no supporting reports could be located.
Separately, an account associated with my identity had received transfers from a company owned by Grant's investment group.
The money then moved through several accounts.
"These records raise questions about authorization, ownership, and the stated purpose of the payments," Daniel explained. "They do not, by themselves, establish who directed every transaction. That requires further examination."
Grant laughed.
"Exactly. Questions. Nothing more."
"That's correct," Daniel said. "Which is why the records need to be preserved."
He slid another page across the table.
"However, we have also identified an electronic authorization bearing Mrs. Hawthorne's name that appears to have been created using a device registered to your company's office. The signature and timestamp require independent technical verification."
Grant's face hardened.
"You can't prove I touched it."
"I haven't claimed that I can."
The calmness of Daniel's response seemed to frustrate him more than an accusation would have.
I asked the question that had been troubling me since I saw the apartment payments.
"Who owns Northstar?"
"The registered owner is a company called Bellweather Holdings," Daniel replied. "Its beneficial ownership has not yet been fully established from the documents available to us."
"Can you find out?"
"Through the appropriate legal and financial channels, yes."
Grant slammed his hand on the mantel.
"This is a private family matter. You're all treating ordinary investments like a criminal conspiracy."
Aunt Marjorie folded her hands.
"Then you should welcome an independent review."
He had no answer.
Daniel reached into his briefcase and removed a final document.
"This is why I asked to attend tonight. The bank confirmed that a request was submitted three weeks ago to change the authorized representatives on a restricted foundation account. The request was rejected because the required supporting documents were incomplete."
"Who submitted it?" I asked.
Daniel glanced at the page.
"The submission was routed through Northstar Heritage Consulting."
Grant stopped pacing.
Aunt Marjorie slowly turned toward him.
"Why would a private consulting company request changes to a restricted foundation account?"
"It was an administrative error."
"Then identifying the person responsible should be straightforward," Daniel replied.
Grant looked at Sloane.
She stared back at him, suddenly pale.
I understood what frightened her. She had believed Grant's promises because he had shown her selected pieces of a much larger plan. She had thought she was entering a wealthy family, not stepping into a structure of shell companies, disputed signatures, and unexplained transfers.
But I wasn't ready to mistake fear for innocence.
"Daniel," I said, "what happens if someone files a false declaration claiming that I surrendered my family position?"
"The document can be examined. The filing history can be requested. The relevant parties can be asked to explain who prepared and submitted it."
"And if the declaration was used to obtain money or control accounts?"
"Then the evidence should be referred to the appropriate authorities, and the foundation's legal counsel should take steps to protect its assets."
Grant moved toward the table.
"No one is taking my accounts."
Daniel closed the folder.
"Nobody has said that."
"Then stop talking as though I'm guilty."
"Mr. Hawthorne, guilt is a legal determination. Records are facts we can investigate."
For the first time, I saw Grant lose control of the room without anyone raising a voice.
He turned toward the hallway, then stopped beside my mother's portrait.
"You think she would have wanted this?" he asked me.
It was his final weapon: my mother, invoked whenever he needed to make me feel disloyal.
I looked at her painted face.
"I think she would have wanted the truth."
Behind Grant, Daniel quietly opened his briefcase again.
"There is one more name in the Northstar records," he said.
Aunt Marjorie leaned forward.
"Whose?"
Daniel turned the page.
"Someone who was involved in managing Eleanor Hawthorne's affairs during the final months of her life."
I felt the room tilt.
May you like
Because I knew exactly who had been given access to my mother's paperwork.
And that person was standing only a few feet away.
