Chapter 7 - The Paper Trail BleedsWith Grant behind steel bars, the financial collapse of Vance Construction was absolute.
By Tuesday morning, the state's licensing board had officially suspended his contractor's license, and the school district had terminated their twenty-million-dollar contract, citing the moral turpitude clause.
I sat in the executive office of the firm, my sister Leah helping me pack up my father's old files. The expensive mahogany desk, the leather chairs, and the gold-plated trophies Grant had collected over the years were all being cataloged by the forensic liquidation team.
"Every single account has been cleared, Claire," Leah said, showing me the final balance sheets. "The federal government has seized the family trust to pay off the tax liens. The farmhouse and the fields are being foreclosed on by the bank next week."
"Good," I said, a deep, peaceful joy settling in my chest. "We are going to buy that farmhouse back at the auction. I'm going to convert the land into a organic farm and a shelter for women and children who are trying to escape abusers."
"And the company?"
"We are dissolving Vance Construction," I said. "And restarting it as Vance & Associates Compliance Consulting. I want to spend the rest of my life helping firms clean up their books and expose the men who think their money makes them kings."
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"You've built a masterpiece, Claire," Leah smiled, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. "Dad would be so proud of you."
"I know he would, Leah," I whispered, looking out the window at the bright morning sun. "We finally got our life back."
