Chapter 2 - THE ACCOUNT HE TRIED TO EMPTY
Forty-eight thousand dollars was not enough to destroy us.
But it was enough to tell me David was frightened.
I called the bank with Rebecca beside me.
We did not freeze everything.
Joint money was still legally joint.
Instead, the bank placed enhanced verification on unusually large transfers while the divorce process began.
David called nineteen minutes later.
“You blocked my account.”
“No.”
“You did something.”
“I asked the bank to verify extraordinary transfers.”
“That’s my money.”
“It’s our joint account.”
“I earned most of it.”
I looked at Rebecca.
She raised an eyebrow.
David had forgotten who paid our mortgage for the first six years of marriage while he built Mercer Consulting.
Me.
“I’m not discussing finances without counsel.”
His voice dropped.
“You got a lawyer?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“What exactly are you planning?”
“A divorce.”
This time, the word came easily.
David breathed hard into the phone.
“You’re divorcing me because I took a trip?”
“No.”
“Because of Emily?”
“Partly.”
“She means nothing.”
I almost laughed.
That line must be printed in some manual.
“Then why abandon your daughter for her?”
“She’s my employee. The trip was partially business.”
“Is that what the hotel receipt will say?”
Silence.
I had guessed.
His silence confirmed more than an answer would have.
Then he changed tactics.
“Clara, Lily needs both parents.”
“She needed you three nights ago.”
“I told you I couldn’t leave Vancouver.”
“You weren’t in Vancouver when she was admitted.”
Nothing.
“David?”
“I had already booked the trip.”
There it was.
He had known Lily was sick.
Maybe not how serious.
But enough.
And he still boarded the plane.
I ended the call.
Rebecca requested emergency temporary financial orders.
Nothing extreme.
Preservation.
No unusual transfers.
No sale of major marital assets.
No new debt against the house.
Then I called Mercer Consulting’s accountant.
Not to demand information I wasn’t entitled to.
Just to notify him that divorce proceedings were beginning and all relevant records should be preserved.
His reaction was strange.
“Mrs. Mercer, I think you should speak with your lawyer.”
“I am.”
Another pause.
“Good.”
“What does that mean?”
“I really can’t discuss company matters.”
“I understand.”
Then he said something quietly:
“Make sure she asks about North Shore Holdings.”
I froze.
“What is North Shore Holdings?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
The call ended.
Rebecca immediately searched public corporate records.
North Shore Holdings LLC.
Created fourteen months earlier.
Registered in Delaware.
Mailing address:
Mercer Consulting’s office.
Managing member information hidden through an agent.
Then another record appeared.
A property in Miami.
Purchased for $1.7 million.
Owner:
North Shore Holdings.
I had never heard of it.
David had never mentioned owning property in Miami.
Then Rebecca found an insurance document from our joint email archive.
The contact address for North Shore correspondence was not David’s office.
It belonged to Emily Carter.
His mistress.
My stomach dropped.
May you like
The affair had not started with Vancouver.
And it had not been cheap.
