ocument.
“The transfers started small.”
Nine thousand.
Eleven thousand.
Seven thousand five hundred.
Amounts ordinary enough to blend into dozens of legitimate vendor payments moving through my company.
“No single invoice looked dramatic.”
I turned the page.
“But together?”
I placed my finger on the total.
“One hundred eighty-seven thousand dollars.”
Gerald sat down.
Adrian stared at the paper.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“That can’t be right.”
“It is.”
He looked at Beatrice.
“Tell her she’s wrong.”
His mother said nothing.
“Mom.”
Her composure finally cracked.
“I intended to replace some
