Chapter 3 - The Red LedgerThe Woman Who Knew Too Much
I didn't sleep that night.
Neither did Rachel.
At 6:10 the next morning, Elena sent an address.
A small apartment building on the north side of Chicago.
“No names,” her message said. “Come alone.”
Rachel objected immediately.
“You're not going alone.”
“She said alone.”
“I don't care.”
“I do.”
Rachel stared at me.
Then she sighed.
“Fine. I'll stay two blocks away.”
The building was old, narrow, and covered in patches of peeling paint.
Elena opened the door before I knocked.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
“Mrs. Hale.”
“Claire.”
She nodded.
Her hands were shaking.
Then she handed me a red leather ledger.
I knew it instantly.
Daniel's handwriting covered the first page.
Dates.
Amounts.
Initials.
Codes.
I flipped through it.
The first fifty pages looked like ordinary accounting.
Then I saw a repeated phrase.
NORTH STAR.
Beside it were large payments.
$40,000.
$60,000.
$85,000.
$100,000.
Every payment came from a different company.
Every payment ended up in the same offshore account.
I looked at Elena.
“What is North Star?”
“I don't know.”
“You must know something.”
She lowered her eyes.
“I cleaned Mr. Hale's office.”
“So?”
“I found things.”
“What things?”
“Documents. Phones. Cash.”
My heart stopped.
“Cash?”
“Large envelopes.”
“How much?”
“Sometimes twenty thousand dollars.”
“Did Daniel know you saw them?”
Elena shook her head.
“He thought I couldn't understand.”
That sounded exactly like him.
Then she said,
“But there was one night.”
“What night?”
“The night your husband thought you were asleep.”
I stopped turning pages.
“He brought someone into the house.”
“Who?”
“I don't know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
“Tall. Gray hair. Black coat.”
“Did you hear anything?”
Elena nodded.
“They argued.”
“About what?”
“The money.”
“What money?”
She looked at the ledger.
“The missing money.”
I felt my heartbeat in my throat.
“What did the man say?”
Elena whispered,
“He said your husband couldn't keep taking from the foundation.”
I froze.
“What foundation?”
Elena stared at me.
“The Hale Family Foundation.”
I had never heard of it.
Rachel had.
She called me the moment I sent her a picture of the page.
“Claire, don't touch anything else.”
“Why?”
“Because there was a foundation opened in your family name three years ago.”
“My family doesn't have a foundation.”
“I know.”
“Then why does it have my name?”
“I don't know yet.”
Rachel spent the morning searching state and federal records.
Then she called.
Her voice sounded different.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“The foundation has one listed trustee.”
“Who?”
“You.”
I laughed.
It came out wrong.
“What?”
“You.”
“I never signed anything.”
“That may be the point.”
The foundation had received nearly $3.4 million over three years.
Then it had paid consulting fees to Northlake Advisory.
Then Northlake had transferred money to Briar Crest.
Then Briar Crest had purchased properties.
It was a circle.
Money went out.
Money came back.
On paper, everything appeared separate.
In reality, one person controlled the pipeline.
Daniel.
Except there was a problem.
The foundation's federal filings contained my forged signature.
Again.
Rachel called a forensic document examiner.
Then she found something even worse.
“Claire, remember the strange withdrawals from the joint account?”
“Yes.”
“They weren't for Daniel's business.”
“What were they?”
“They were payments connected to the foundation.”
I stared at the wall.
“He used my own accounts to fund a fake charity.”
“That's what it looks like.”
“What was he buying?”
Silence.
“What?”
“Not cars.”
“Not houses.”
“Then what?”
Rachel took a breath.
“Access.”
“To what?”
“People.”
That afternoon, Elena called again.
“Mrs. Hale?”
“What's wrong?”
“Mr. Hale came home early.”
My heart raced.
“Why?”
“He is angry.”
“Does he know about the ledger?”
“I don't think so.”
Then Elena whispered,
“He asked me about the red book.”
I stood so quickly my chair fell backward.
“He knows.”
“I said I had never seen it.”
“Good.”
“But Mrs. Hale…”
“Yes?”
“He asked something else.”
“What?”
“He said, ‘Where has my wife been?’”
I closed my eyes.
It had been six days.
He was pretending to be concerned.
Or perhaps he was terrified.
“What did you tell him?”
Elena's voice went soft.
“I told him you were probably somewhere safe.”
I swallowed.
Then she added,
“He didn't believe me.”
“Why?”
“Because he said you would never leave your phone behind.”
I looked at the phone in my hand.
He was right.
I had taken it.
That meant he wasn't asking where I was because he missed me.
He was asking because he knew I had evidence.
Rachel came into the room.
“What happened?”
I covered the phone.
Then Elena screamed.
The call dropped.
I called back.
Nothing.
Again.
Nothing.
Rachel took my phone.
“We need to get to that house.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“No?”
“Daniel expects me to go back.”
“And?”
“And if I go back, I give him exactly what he wants.”
Rachel understood.
Then her eyes narrowed.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“What if we let him think you are already coming home?”
I slowly smiled.
May you like
Because suddenly, for the first time since O'Hare, I wasn't reacting.
I was planning.
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