Chapter 9: What Thomas Knew
Thomas had been Julian's closest friend since university.
He was also the company's anchor client — his firm had signed a three-year retainer in the company's first month, which had given Julian the credibility to attract two more clients within the quarter.
Without Thomas, there would have been no company to finance.
We met at a coffee shop near his office.
He was already there when I arrived, sitting with his hands around a cup he hadn't touched.
He looked tired.
"How long have you known about Renata?" I said, sitting down.
"I suspected about a year ago.
I knew for certain six months ago."
"Did you say anything to Julian?"
"I tried.
He told me I was misreading the situation.
That she was a business partner and nothing more." He looked at his cup.
"I didn't push hard enough.
I should have."
"Why didn't you call me?"
He looked up.
"Because I kept thinking Julian would end it.
That he'd come to his senses." A pause.
"And because I didn't want to be the one to blow up your marriage on a suspicion."
"It wasn't a suspicion six months ago.
You said you knew."
"I know." He held my gaze.
"I'm sorry, Claire.
I made the wrong call."
I let that sit for a moment.
"Tell me about the company finances."
He exhaled.
"About eight months ago, Julian asked me to extend our retainer early.
Before the current one expired.
He said the company was going through a growth phase and needed the revenue certainty." He paused.
"I agreed.
I signed a new three-year agreement."
"How much?"
"Four hundred thousand over the term."
"Did the money go to the company account?"
"It went where Julian directed it.
A new account he said was set up for the new phase of the business." Thomas reached into his jacket and produced a folded sheet of paper.
He set it on the table and smoothed it flat.
"I had my finance team pull the wire transfer records last week.
After I heard you'd left."
I looked at the paper.
An account number.
A bank.
A series of transfers.
"That account," Thomas said, "is not the company's primary operating account.
I checked."
"Whose account is it?"
"I don't know.
But the account was opened fourteen months ago." He paused.
"The same month as the credit line."
I thought about the sixty-three thousand drawn against the company credit line.
The vendor account that matched nothing legitimate.
And now a separate account receiving retainer payments from Thomas's firm.
"He was building a parallel structure," I said.
"That's what it looks like." Thomas folded his hands.
"Claire, if that money went to Renata — or to an account she controls — Julian has a serious problem.
Not just a divorce problem.
A legal problem."
"I know."
"I'll give Patricia everything.
The wire records, the account number, the retainer agreement.
All of it." He looked at me steadily.
"Whatever I can do."
"Why now?" I said.
"Why not six months ago?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because six months ago I was still hoping I was wrong." He picked up his cup for the first time.
"And because you deserved better than what he gave you.
You always did."
I didn't say anything.
"He used to talk about you," Thomas said quietly.
"In the early days.
Before all of this.
He'd say you were the most capable person he'd ever met.
That he didn't know how you managed everything you managed." A pause.
"I think that was true.
I also think it scared him."
"It shouldn't have."
"No," Thomas said.
"It shouldn't have."
I picked up my bag.
"Send everything to Patricia today."
"It's already drafted.
I just needed to tell you in person first." He stood when I did.
"Claire." He hesitated.
"For what it's worth — and I know it's not much — I'm sorry."
I looked at him for a moment.
"Send the documents, Thomas."
I walked out into the afternoon.
My phone buzzed as I reached my car.
Patricia.
"Thomas just emailed," she said.
"I haven't opened it yet but his assistant flagged it as urgent."
"Open it," I said.
"And then call Garrett Finch."
"What do I tell him?"
"Tell him Julian has until Friday to come to the table.
After Friday, we stop being reasonable."
A pause.
"And if Julian calls your bluff?"
May you like
"It's not a bluff," I said.
"Tell him that too."
