Chapter 4 - LEO'S FAMILY HAD BEEN TAKING MONEY TOO
Maeve looked at Leo differently after that.
“Your uncle?”
“Yes.”
“And you waited until now to mention it?”
“I learned six days ago.”
“Convenient.”
“It is.”
She almost smiled despite herself.
Then remembered millions were missing.
Leo’s uncle was Vincent Rossi.
Older brother of Leo’s late father.
Publicly retired.
Privately, people still lowered their voices around his name.
Vincent owned forty percent of Bellweather Logistics through a holding company.
Meaning money left Sullivan Floral and flowed into a company controlled by Caroline and a Rossi.
“How long?” Maeve asked.
“Eight years.”
Her stomach tightened.
“Did your family know?”
“Mine didn’t.”
“You’re the mafia boss. Isn’t knowing things the brand?”
A few guests audibly inhaled.
Leo looked at her.
Then laughed.
One quiet breath.
Richard looked horrified that Maeve spoke to him that way.
Good.
Leo said:
“You have a point.”
They moved the confrontation into a private boardroom before someone livestreamed it.
Richard.
Caroline.
Maeve.
Leo.
Sofia.
And Sullivan Floral’s outside accountant, Martin Shaw.
Martin looked like he wanted to disappear into the carpet.
Sofia laid out invoices.
Bellweather billed Sullivan Floral nearly $8 million over eight years.
Some services were real.
Many were inflated.
Some trips never occurred.
Maeve recognized dates immediately.
“This truck was ours.”
She pointed.
“We never outsourced this route.”
Martin swallowed.
“Accounting received approved invoices.”
“Approved by?”
Richard.
Every one.
Caroline leaned back.
“This is ridiculous. Bellweather did work.”
“Some,” Maeve said.
She began marking fake routes from memory.
Chicago to Lake Forest.
Their driver Marcus handled that.
Chicago to Naperville.
Company truck.
Oak Brook wedding contract.
Maeve herself had scheduled it.
Within twenty minutes, she identified more than $900,000 in charges she knew were false.
Leo watched her.
“You remember all of these?”
“I worked them.”
Caroline rolled her eyes.
“Congratulations.”
Maeve ignored her.
Then she noticed another invoice.
Date:
June 14, eleven years ago.
One week after her mother died.
Charge:
Emergency refrigerated transport.
$84,000.
“Where did this go?”
Martin looked down.
No destination listed.
Maeve frowned.
“All routes need destination codes.”
Richard said:
“Old record.”
Leo took the page.
His expression changed.
“Vendor note says E.S.”
Elizabeth Sullivan.
Maeve’s mother.
“What does Mom have to do with a refrigerated truck?”
No one answered.
Then Sofia found the original payment memo.
SPECIAL MEDICAL TRANSFER.
Maeve felt cold.
Her mother had died at Northwestern Memorial.
Or that was what she had been told.
Cancer complications.
But why would a floral logistics company pay Bellweather for a refrigerated medical transfer after her death?
Maeve looked at Richard.
“Where was Mom taken?”
His face went gray.
“Maeve…”
“Where?”
Caroline suddenly stood.
“I’m leaving.”
Leo’s security chief appeared outside the door.
Not blocking.
Simply present.
Caroline sat again.
Then Richard whispered:
“Your mother wasn’t buried when you thought she was.”
Maeve stopped breathing.
“What does that mean?”
Richard looked twenty years older.
May you like
“The funeral casket was empty.”
And just like that, the theft of Maeve’s company became the smaller family secret.
