The following Monday, Mara and I met with a forensic accountant named Samuel Price.
He was sixty-three, bald, soft-spoken, and irritatingly patient.
I liked him immediately.
He spread the financial records across a conference table.
“Before we begin,” he said, “I need one thing from you.”
“What?”
“Don't tell me what you think happened.”
I looked at Mara.
Samuel continued.
“Give me the documents. Let the documents tell us what happened.”
So I did.
For nearly four hours, Samuel traced transactions.
He marked dates.
He compared account numbers.
He followed transfers through Northbridge.
The deeper he went, the more deliberate the structure appeared.
Nathan had not taken one large amount.
He had moved smaller amounts at irregular intervals.
Some were labeled consulting fees.
Others were reimbursements.
Several were listed as loans.
One transfer was disguised as a repayment.
Samuel circled it.
“This is interesting.”
“What?”
“The receiving account isn't Northbridge.”
“Then whose is it?”
He rotated the paper toward me.
I recognized the bank.
But not the account holder.
“Elaine Cartwright.”
I stared.
Nathan's mother had received $180,000 from my investment account.
Mara leaned forward.
“When?”
“Six weeks before the wedding anniversary.”
I closed my eyes.
That anniversary had been one of the happiest nights of my marriage.
Nathan had taken me to a small restaurant.
He had given me a necklace.
He had told me he was finally close to becoming partner.
All the while, money was moving out of my account.
Samuel continued.
“There are three more transfers to her.”
“How much?”
“Approximately $420,000 combined.”
My stomach tightened.
“Can we prove I didn't authorize them?”
“We can prove the authentication method.”
He pulled up the records.
The transfers had been initiated through a device registered to Nathan.
Not mine.
I looked at Mara.
“That should matter.”
“It matters very much.”
Samuel found another problem.
Northbridge had paid a consulting company.
That company was owned by Daniel Voss.
I sat back.
“Daniel?”
Mara's expression hardened.
“His statement may need to be reconsidered.”
I remembered the flash drive.
Daniel had claimed he was helping me.
Maybe he was.
But he had also received money.
Samuel checked the dates.
The payments began shortly after Daniel warned Nathan about the board.
They stopped two weeks before Daniel gave me the flash drive.
I didn't know what to think.
Then Samuel found something else.
A transfer from Northbridge to a children's medical foundation.
The amount was small.
$7,500.
The recipient was a hospital foundation.
The note read:
For prenatal services.
I stared.
“Vanessa?”
Samuel nodded.
“That appears likely.”
So Nathan had paid some of Vanessa's medical expenses through the same company.
That meant the company was not simply hiding assets.
It was being used to support the new family he was building while I unknowingly funded it.
I felt sick.
Mara closed the folder.
“We need to move quickly.”
“Why?”
“Because if Nathan realizes how much we've traced, he may try to move the remaining assets.”
“Can he?”
“Not easily.”
“But?”
“But people who know they're being investigated sometimes make bad decisions.”
I almost smiled.
“Nathan has been making bad decisions for years.”
That afternoon, we filed an emergency request concerning the disputed funds.
The bank was notified.
Several accounts were restricted pending review.
Nathan learned about it within hours.
He called.
I answered.
“Claire.”
“What?”
“You froze my accounts.”
“Your accounts.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
His breathing became heavier.
“You are making a serious mistake.”
“I've heard that before.”
“You don't understand the legal consequences.”
“Then explain them.”
He went quiet.
I waited.
“You're hurting people who had nothing to do with this.”
“Vanessa?”
“Yes.”
“She had something to do with it.”
“She didn't create the marriage.”
“No.”
“But she didn't know about it.”
I paused.
That was true.
“I am not trying to hurt Vanessa.”
“Then stop.”
“I will stop when you return what belongs to me.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Silence.
“Nathan?”
“I don't have it.”
The answer was almost a whisper.
I looked at Mara.
She heard it too.
“You don't have my inheritance?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
“I invested it.”
“In what?”
“Several things.”
“Northbridge?”
He didn't answer.
I said, “Did you use my money to buy the condominium?”
“No.”
“Did Northbridge?”
Silence.
That was enough.
I ended the call.
The next morning, Samuel found another transfer.
Northbridge had paid $32,000 to a private school.
Vanessa's surname appeared on the enrollment paperwork.
I stared at the amount.
The baby wasn't even born.
“What was the money for?”
“Tuition deposit.”
“For a child who doesn't exist yet?”
Samuel nodded.
“It looks like a future enrollment.”
Mara looked at me.
“Nathan was building a life around a child before the child was born.”
I said nothing.
That afternoon, Vanessa contacted me.
She asked to meet.
We chose a small café across from Mara's office.
She arrived alone.
She looked exhausted.
“I almost didn't come.”
“I understand.”
She sat.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Finally she said, “I didn't know.”
“I believe you.”
Her eyes filled.
“He told me you were separated.”
“You weren't the only person he lied to.”
She looked down.
“I feel stupid.”
“So did I.”
She shook her head.
“I loved him.”
“I did too.”
She looked at me.
That shared sentence changed the room.
For the first time, we were not rivals.
We were two women standing on opposite sides of the same lie.
“Did you know about Northbridge?” I asked.
“No.”
“Did Nathan ever mention my inheritance?”
She frowned.
“He said your family had money.”
“Did he say how much?”
“No.”
“Did he ever talk about a condominium?”
She looked confused.
“What condominium?”
I showed her the property photograph.
Her face changed.
“I've been there.”
“When?”
“Nathan took me there three months ago.”
I stared.
“What did he say?”
“That it would be our home after everything was settled.”
My hands went cold.
“Did he show you anything else?”
She hesitated.
“A nursery.”
The word hurt.
“Was it furnished?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Northbridge had already prepared the house.
The future Nathan had described to Vanessa existed physically.
He had purchased it while still married to me.
Then Vanessa whispered something that changed the entire investigation.
“There was a room with boxes.”
“What kind?”
“Legal boxes.”
“Did you see anything written on them?”
She looked at me.
“Your name.”
I stopped breathing.
“What name?”
“Claire.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Boxes in the Nursery Contained More Than Financial Records, and One Photograph Explained Why Nathan Had Kept Claire Hidden
The Woman Carrying His Lunch Heard One Sentence That Made Three Years of Silence Suddenly Impossible to Explain
Part 6 of 12
