Chapter 7: What Diane Knew
The rest of the money took Patricia's forensic accountant eleven days to trace.
In that eleven days, Lily came home from school one afternoon and told me that Daddy had called her during lunch.
I set down the dish I was drying.
"What did he say, sweetheart?"
"He said that sometimes grown-ups have to make hard choices and that I shouldn't be upset if things feel confusing for a while." She pulled at a loose thread on her sleeve.
"He said you might seem sad but that it's not my fault."
I put the dish on the counter.
Walked over and crouched down to her level.
"None of this is your fault," I said.
"Not one single piece of it.
Do you hear me?"
She nodded.
But her eyes were uncertain in the way that meant she had already started to carry it.
I called Patricia that evening.
"He called Lily at school," I said.
"He's coaching her."
"Did he say anything specific about the case or the finances?"
"No.
It was vague.
Deliberately vague."
"Document it.
Date, time, what Lily reported.
We may need it." Patricia paused.
"The accountant finished the trace today.
Can you come in tomorrow morning?"
I was in her office at nine.
The accountant, a quiet man named Gerald who wore a brown cardigan and spoke in complete, precise sentences, walked me through it with a printed summary on the table between us.
Over twenty-two months, Daniel had transferred a total of eighty-six thousand dollars out of the joint accounts.
Some had gone to the Mercer Street property.
Some had gone to a second account in the company name.
Twelve thousand dollars had gone to a personal account registered to a Diane Whitmore.
I looked up from the page.
"Diane Whitmore is my sister-in-law," I said.
Gerald nodded.
"The transfers to her account began fourteen months ago.
Irregular amounts.
The largest was thirty-one hundred dollars.
The smallest was four hundred."
"He was paying her," I said.
"The transfers are documented," Gerald said.
"What they were for is something your attorney would need to establish."
I looked at Patricia.
"She wasn't just coordinating," I said.
"She was being paid to coordinate."
"It changes her role significantly," Patricia said.
"It also means she has exposure.
People with exposure sometimes decide it's better to talk than to stay loyal."
I thought about Diane's texts.
*Relax.
Daniel said you'd be emotional but cooperative.
Are you?*
She had known everything.
She had known for over a year.
She had taken money to help manage me.
"I want to contact her," I said.
Patricia shook her head.
"Not directly.
Not yet.
Let me handle it through the legal process.
If we approach her correctly, she becomes a witness.
If you approach her now, she warns Daniel and we lose the advantage."
I sat back.
"How much of the eighty-six thousand is recoverable?" I asked.
"A significant portion," Gerald said.
"The property on Mercer Street is the largest asset.
Its current value exceeds the purchase price.
In a marital asset division, the court will consider the source of the funds used to acquire it."
"Meaning the apartment could come back to me."
"Meaning the apartment's value could be factored into your settlement.
Yes."
I looked at the summary on the table.
Eighty-six thousand dollars.
Twenty-two months.
A sister-in-law on a quiet payroll.
A photograph on a nightstand.
A cake with a key inside it.
And a daughter who had asked me if those were happy tears.
I folded the summary and put it in my bag.
"What's next?" I asked.
Patricia picked up her pen.
"Next," she said, "we make sure Daniel's attorney sees exactly what we have.
May you like
All of it.
At once."
