The forensic review continued through December.
Every few days, the accountant asked for another set of records.
I sent them.
He requested the original invoices.
I provided them.
He wanted the bank statements.
I gave him access through Elaine.
The work was slow.
There were no dramatic meetings.
No sudden confession.
Just documents.
Dates.
Amounts.
And questions that became harder to answer.
The first time he called me with an update, I was in the kitchen preparing a tasting menu.
I stepped into the office and closed the door.
"We've confirmed the payments to Northstar," he said.
I sat down.
"All of them?"
"We're still reviewing the full period, but the records support the amount in the investigator's report."
I looked at the folder.
"Did they provide any services?"
"We haven't found evidence of that."
I closed my eyes.
I had hoped there might be something.
A report I hadn't seen.
A project Daniel had forgotten to mention.
A legitimate expense that would explain the payments.
But there was nothing.
The accountant asked whether I had any additional records.
I told him I would check.
After the call, I went through the company files.
I looked at the contracts.
The purchase orders.
The meeting notes.
The email records.
I searched for Northstar.
The name appeared in the invoices.
It appeared in the payment approvals.
It appeared in a few emails between Daniel and Vanessa.
But I couldn't find a single completed project.
No menu plans.
No training materials.
No research.
Nothing that matched the services the company had supposedly provided.
I sat at my desk and stared at the screen.
For years, I had believed that my husband understood the business as well as I did.
I had trusted him to protect it.
I had trusted him to protect me.
Now I was looking at the records of a company that had been used against both.
I called Elaine.
She listened while I explained what I had found.
"Don't contact them about the records," she said.
"I wasn't going to."
"Good. Let the accountant finish the review."
I agreed.
Then I asked her whether I should tell Daniel that I knew about the restaurant lease.
She paused.
"Not unless we need to."
I looked out the office window.
The delivery vans were lined up beside the building.
I could see one of the drivers checking the tires.
The company was still working.
That mattered.
"I won't," I said.
The next week, I met with the accountant again.
He brought a printed summary.
The transfers had been traced through the company accounts.
The invoices had been matched to the approvals.
The payments had been compared with the services supposedly delivered.
The findings were consistent.
I read the summary slowly.
The money had moved from Cedar & Salt to Northstar.
Then it had been used for expenses that had nothing to do with the business.
Patricia's condo renovations.
Trips.
The restaurant deposit.
I had known those things from the investigator's report.
Seeing them confirmed by the accountant made them harder to dismiss.
I asked whether the money could be recovered.
He said that would depend on the legal process and the available assets.
I nodded.
I didn't ask how much.
I was afraid of the answer.
That evening, Daniel sent me a message.
Can we talk?
I read it.
Then I put the phone down.
A few minutes later, another message arrived.
I know you're angry.
I stared at the words.
He still thought this was about anger.
He still thought that if I calmed down, everything could return to normal.
I typed a response.
The accountant is reviewing the records. Please direct any questions through Elaine.
Then I sent it.
He called immediately.
I didn't answer.
The next morning, Vanessa emailed me.
She said Northstar had provided legitimate services.
She said I was misunderstanding the invoices.
She said the company had been paid for work that benefited Cedar & Salt.
I forwarded the email to Elaine.
I did not respond.
The accountant asked for the materials Vanessa claimed existed.
I waited.
Nothing arrived.
No reports.
No presentations.
No training documents.
No completed work.
The claim was not supported.
I had wanted the investigation to reveal a mistake.
Instead, it kept revealing the same thing.
The payments had been approved.
The services had not been delivered.
The money had gone elsewhere.
I began to understand why Elaine had told me not to confront them.
The truth did not need my anger to become true.
It needed records.
And the records were being preserved.
By January, Cedar & Salt had resumed its ordinary rhythm.
We catered weddings.
We delivered lunches.
We prepared holiday meals for clients who had booked months earlier.
The staff worked.
The ovens ran.
The delivery vans left before sunrise.
I made sure payroll went out on time.
I made sure the suppliers were paid.
I made sure nobody had to wonder whether the company would survive the investigation.
But I was different.
I no longer approved a payment because Daniel said it was necessary.
I no longer assumed that a family member would act in the company's best interest.
I no longer confused familiarity with honesty.
It was a difficult lesson.
I wished I had learned it without losing so much.
Source: kaylestore.net
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Restaurant Lease Hidden in the Records and the Life I Had Been Financing Without Knowing It
The Empty Chair at My Thanksgiving Table and the Photographs That Made Me Question Everything I Thought I Knew
Part 6 of 13
