Chapter 6 - THE REFUND THAT NEVER REACHED OUR COMPANY
The Aspen refund had been deposited into a Bellwether account that didn't appear in our regular financial reports.
Marcus had opened the account eleven months earlier.
Derek was an authorized signatory.
Nobody else on the executive team appeared to know it existed.
“Where did the money go?” I asked.
Olivia brought up the transaction history.
“Eight hundred thousand went to Crescent Bay. Six hundred thousand was transferred to Whitfield Strategic Solutions. The remaining four hundred thousand was withdrawn through several smaller transactions.”
I stared at the screen.
One million, eight hundred thousand dollars.
Money that should have funded renovations, paid suppliers, and supported our employees.
Instead, Derek and Marcus had apparently redirected it while reporting the entire amount as a loss.
“Can we recover it?”
“Some of it, potentially. We need the forensic review and banking records before making that determination.”
Nolan looked toward Rachel.
“Preserve everything. Nobody should be able to erase these transactions.”
The emergency board meeting began at 6:30 p.m.
Derek joined by video from Cabo.
He wore a white linen shirt.
Clara was nowhere in sight.
Marcus joined from his home office.
The other directors were Helena Brooks, an experienced hospitality investor, and Samuel Porter, a retired commercial banker.
I sat beside Nolan.
For years, Derek had been the one who led these meetings.
He presented the numbers.
Explained the strategy.
Answered questions.
I usually handled the branding portion and then let him continue.
Not tonight.
Helena opened the meeting.
“Derek, we've received a preliminary report concerning undisclosed related-party transactions, disputed financial authorizations, and irregularities in the Aspen project.”
Derek laughed.
“This is obviously Emily's reaction to a personal disagreement.”
I felt my chest tighten.
He was going to make me look irrational.
Exactly as Nolan predicted.
Helena's expression didn't change.
“The board has reviewed documents independently of your marital situation.”
“Those documents are being taken out of context.”
“Then you'll have the opportunity to provide the context.”
Derek looked at me.
“Emily, tell them what's going on.”
I met his eyes.
“I'm listening.”
His smile disappeared.
For the next forty minutes, the directors questioned him about Whitfield Strategic Solutions.
He claimed the company provided legitimate market research.
Then Helena asked why no completed research reports had been produced.
Derek said Marcus handled the records.
Marcus claimed Derek approved the work.
Then Samuel asked about the Aspen refund.
Neither man gave a consistent explanation.
Finally, Rachel displayed the disputed personal guarantee.
Derek's expression changed.
“Emily authorized that.”
“No,” I said.
He stared at me.
“You signed the documents.”
“I did not.”
“Emily—”
“I did not.”
For the first time, I spoke without softening my answer to protect him.
Nolan asked whether the board was ready to consider the proposed resolutions.
Derek immediately objected.
“You can't remove me. I built this company.”
I looked at him.
“You helped build it.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That isn't what I said.”
“I know.”
The board voted.
Derek was suspended from his executive duties pending the independent investigation.
Marcus was placed on administrative leave.
An interim financial controller was appointed.
Access to discretionary company accounts and systems was restricted.
The questionable consulting contracts were suspended, subject to legal review.
The resolutions passed four votes to one.
Derek's was the only opposing vote.
He remained a shareholder.
He still owned whatever assets legally belonged to him.
But he had lost the CEO position, his corporate spending privileges, and the authority he had been using to push through the restructuring.
When the meeting ended, Nolan looked at his watch.
It was 7:28 p.m.
A little more than twenty-four hours after he stopped me from confronting Derek at the airport.
“Little sister,” he said quietly, “they've lost the things they were counting on.”
I looked down at the engagement ring resting in my purse.
Not everything had been resolved.
Not even close.
Then Rachel's phone rang.
She listened for several seconds.
Her expression tightened.
“There's another problem.”
I was beginning to hate those words.
“What now?”
“The company that was supposed to purchase our Aspen property rights has contacted us.”
“We canceled that project.”
“Apparently Derek didn't.”
Rachel placed the buyer's letter on the table.
The buyer claimed to have signed an agreement with Crescent Bay to acquire the rights to a future Bellwether development.
The contract included an exclusivity clause.
And a penalty if the deal collapsed.
Five million dollars.
I stared at the signature page.
Derek Lawson.
Marcus Bell.
And, beside them, a third signature.
Emily Hart.
May you like
Mine.
Except I had never seen the agreement before.
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