Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN BEHIND THE FOUNDATION|
The audit began before sunrise.
By noon, Holly had uncovered three years of payments from Whitmore Medical Holdings to Harbor Children's Promise, the foundation that supposedly helped families afford specialized treatment.
The foundation's website showed photographs of smiling children, grateful parents, and doctors in white coats.
Its annual reports described free cardiac screenings and emergency medical assistance.
But its bank records told another story.
A substantial portion of the money had gone to Rachel Palmer.
Not to a hospital.
Not to a surgeon.
To Rachel personally.
There were payments for rent, private school tuition, travel, clothing, and something labeled family assistance.
I stared at the spreadsheet.
“Why would a children's foundation pay her rent?”
Holly shook her head.
“That's what the auditors are trying to establish.”
“Does Grant know we're investigating?”
“Almost certainly.”
My phone rang.
Grant.
I answered because I wanted to hear what he would say now that his authority had been suspended.
“What did you do to my company?” he demanded.
I looked at Eli, who was watching a cartoon from his hospital bed.
“Your company?”
“You know exactly what I mean. The trustees froze my accounts.”
“They froze the accounts connected to the emergency reserve subsidiary.”
“Because you gave them a one-sided story.”
“They have the transfer records.”
“You're turning a medical decision into a criminal investigation.”
“You forged my signature.”
He went silent.
Then his voice became colder.
“You don't understand what you're accusing me of.”
“I understand that I never approved Rachel's company receiving voting rights.”
“That was a restructuring.”
“Then why did you use a signature copied from my maternity paperwork?”
He didn't answer.
I heard a door close on his end.
“Mara, we can resolve this privately.”
“Privately? Like the blood transfer?”
“Don't be dramatic.”
I almost laughed.
“My son nearly died.”
“He survived.”
The words landed like a slap.
I looked at Eli's small face.
Grant continued.
“That's what matters now. We need to stop making this worse.”
“No, Grant. What matters is that our son survives without having to wonder whether his father considers him worth showing up for.”
“I'm his father.”
“Then start acting like it.”
I ended the call.
Holly was watching me.
“Did he admit anything?”
“He called it a restructuring.”
“That's not an admission.”
“No. But it tells me he's scared.”
That afternoon, Rachel arrived at the hospital.
She wore a cream coat and carried a designer handbag. She stopped at the doorway when she saw me.
“I need to speak with you.”
“You can speak from there.”
Her eyes moved toward Eli.
“How is he?”
“Recovering.”
“I'm glad.”
“Are you?”
Rachel flinched.
“I didn't want this to happen.”
“Did you know Grant transferred emergency blood for Sophie?”
“He said the units were reserved.”
“They weren't.”
“He told me everything was approved.”
“Did you know about the foundation payments?”
Her expression changed.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
I showed her one line from the spreadsheet.
Her own name appeared beside a payment of forty-two thousand dollars.
Rachel stared at it.
“That was for Sophie.”
“Was the apartment for Sophie too?”
She said nothing.
I lowered the paper.
“Rachel, I don't blame your daughter for needing medical care. But I will not let you use her illness to excuse what Grant did.”
Rachel's eyes filled.
“You think I wanted this?”
“I think you accepted it.”
She looked toward Eli again.
Then she whispered, “You don't know what Grant promised me.”
I stood.
“Then tell me.”
Rachel opened her mouth.
But before she could speak, her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen, and all the color drained from her face.
“It's him,” she whispered.
She answered.
“Yes?”
A pause.
Then:
“No, Grant. I can't keep lying for you.”
May you like
She ended the call and looked at me.
“Your husband has been telling everyone that Sophie is his daughter.”
