Chapter 7: The Woman Who Lost Everything
Her name was Diane Marsh, and Julian found her in forty minutes.
She was living two hours away, working at a garden center.
Julian texted me her number with a single line beneath it: *She picked up.
She's willing to talk.
Tonight if you can.*
I stepped outside between courses and called her.
She answered immediately.
"You're the one Julian told me about," she said.
No greeting.
Her voice was direct, a little flat, the voice of someone who had learned to skip pleasantries.
"Yes.
Meredith.
I'm sorry to call like this."
"Don't be.
I've been waiting for something like this for three years." A pause.
"Julian says you have copies of Adrian's records."
"Yes."
"And you think there's more underneath."
"Gerald told me himself tonight that what Adrian did was separate from what he did.
He didn't say it in those words, but he didn't deny it either."
"He wouldn't.
He's too confident to deny things.
He just makes sure there's no one left to prove them." Her voice tightened.
"He told my employer I'd been skimming client accounts.
He had someone plant a discrepancy in a file with my login.
By the time I realized what had happened, the investigation was already closed.
I was already g*ne."
"I'm sorry."
"I don't need sorry.
I need the records."
"I can photograph everything in the envelope and send it to you tonight."
"Do that.
And I need access to the company's current filing structure — even partial.
Julian would know what's accessible."
"I'll ask him."
"There's something else." Diane's voice shifted slightly.
"Three years ago, when I found the original discrepancies, I made copies before they locked me out of the system.
I kept them.
I didn't know what to do with them at the time.
I was too scared and too angry and too busy trying to save my reputation." A beat.
"I still have them."
I closed my eyes briefly.
"Diane.
That combined with what I have—"
"Is enough to open a formal investigation.
Yes." She said it plainly, like a fact she had been sitting with for a long time.
"I've already spoken to a financial crimes attorney.
Informally.
She told me what I'd need."
"When did you do that?"
"Six months ago.
I just didn't have a second source." A pause.
"Now I do."
I looked back through the venue window.
Gerald Parker was at the head table, laughing at something.
Colleen was beside him, her corsage — my corsage — still on her wrist.
Adrian was cutting into his dinner.
"Diane," I said.
"How long would this take?
If we moved forward."
"The attorney said if the documentation is solid, she can file a complaint with the financial regulator within two weeks.
An investigation would follow.
It could take months to fully resolve.
But the filing itself — that becomes public record."
"Gerald would know immediately."
"Yes."
"He'd come after you again."
"He can try." Her voice was quiet but absolute.
"I have nothing left to lose that he hasn't already taken."
I stood in the cool air outside the venue for a moment.
Through the glass, I could see the sweetheart table.
The large floral arrangement I'd built.
Beneath it, the envelope.
"Send me everything tonight," Diane said.
"And tell Julian I need whatever current access he can get me.
Even read-only."
"I will."
"Meredith." She paused.
"What he did to you — the funeral, all of it.
That's not a financial crjme.
That's something else entirely."
"I know."
"You might want to talk to someone about that separately.
There may be legal options."
"One thing at a time."
"Fair enough." A brief silence.
"I'll be up all night.
Send the photos whenever you're ready."
I hung up.
When I went back inside, Gerald Parker's eyes found me across the room.
May you like
I smiled at him.
He didn't smile back.
