Chapter 7 - The Second Account Was Not Hidden From the Bank, Only From Everyone Else

The second account belonged to Crestline Site Services; what mattered was where the money went next.

Northpoint paid Crestline $2.4 million over eighteen months.

Crestline transferred most of it within forty-eight hours of each payment.

Some went to Derek Shaw.

Some went to a company called Red Mesa Holdings.

Red Mesa owned three vacant parcels outside Austin.

One was purchased for a resort development Jason never disclosed to lenders.

The project had failed before construction began.

Northpoint had lost nearly $3 million.

Instead of telling the board, Jason and Derek had moved legitimate company money through fake subcontractor invoices to cover debt on the land.

Fraud was no longer a suspicion whispered at a diner. It was becoming a ledger.

The forensic accountant presented findings to Northpoint’s board.

Jason was removed as chief executive pending investigation.

Derek failed to attend the meeting.

His lawyer said he was unavailable.

Police discovered why three hours later.

His house was empty.

Passport gone.

Truck gone.

Phone off.

A neighbor said he left before dawn.

Detective Nolan issued a regional alert.

Not because financial fraud made him a fugitive yet.

Because he was now relevant to Lily’s last night.

The 9:04 call from Jason had reached Derek.

The next question was whether Derek came to the house.

Police obtained traffic-camera data.

At 9:11, a dark Ford pickup matching Derek’s truck passed an intersection six blocks from Lily’s neighborhood.

At 9:16, it disappeared from public cameras.

At 9:38, it appeared again heading south.

Twenty-two minutes.

The kitchen camera went dark at 9:18.

Jason called emergency services at 9:34.

My skin went cold when Nolan laid the times in a row.

“Can you prove he entered the property?”

“Not yet.”

The house sat on two acres.

No neighbor’s camera faced the rear service lane.

But Lily’s basement door opened to that lane.

And her notebook contained the entry:

Basement door unlocked when I know I locked it.

At the time, I had assumed that referred to the day before her death.

Maybe it was a warning from an earlier visit.

Police returned to the house.

The scene had been released after the original accidental-death investigation, but Jason had not moved back in.

Margaret said it was too painful.

I wondered whether pain was the reason.

Forensic technicians examined the basement entrance.

Weeks had passed.

Rain had come twice.

No clean footprints survived outside.

Inside, near the utility sink, they found a small smear of dried reddish-brown material beneath the lip of a shelf.

Blood.

Not visible without angled light.

Testing would take time.

They also found a torn corner of heavy paper beneath the furnace.

The fragment contained three printed characters:

STL

The Crestline payment schedule Lily had copied used invoice codes beginning CSTL.

Possible connection.

Not proof.

Again.

The entire case was built from almosts.

That evening, Margaret came to my parents’ house.

My mother did not want to let her in.

I did.

I needed to look at her without glass between us.

She sat in Lily’s old dining chair like she had aged ten years.

“I did not drug her.”

That was her first sentence.

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know what people think.”

“I don’t know what people think. I know your prescription ended up in my sister’s bottle.”

Margaret looked sick.

“Jason came to my house after my surgery.”

My pulse changed.

“When?”

“Three months before Lily died.”

Around the first fall.

“What did he want?”

“He said he hadn’t been sleeping.”

I leaned forward.

“And?”

“He asked if I had anything left from surgery.”

My mother swore.

Margaret flinched.

“You gave him the medication?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“I told him where it was.”

Silence.

“He was my son. I didn’t think—”

“That phrase is becoming very expensive.”

Margaret’s eyes filled.

“He went upstairs. I assumed he took one or two.”

“Did you check?”

“No.”

“When did you notice the bottle missing?”

“I didn’t.”

“Because you didn’t care?”

“Because my husband had just died months earlier and I was barely functioning.”

That stopped me.

Grief did not absolve her.

It explained carelessness.

“Did Jason ever mention Lily’s pills?”

Margaret stared at the table.

“Once.”

“When?”

“After her first fall.”

“What did he say?”

“That her medication might be making her unstable.”

My stomach twisted.

“Did you tell him you had given him access to sedatives?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t connect it.”

Maybe.

Or maybe Margaret’s mind had spent years disconnecting anything that made Jason dangerous.

Daniel arrived with documents from Lily’s trust.

He waited until Margaret left.

Then he placed a file in front of me.

“There’s something the police should have first, but because you are trustee, you need to understand it too.”

Lily had inherited property from our grandmother.

A small commercial building and investment account worth around $1.6 million.

Separate property.

Jason could not simply take it.

But Lily had signed a spousal guarantee on one Northpoint credit line two years earlier.

I stared.

“What does that mean?”

“If Northpoint defaulted under certain conditions, the lender could pursue assets covered by the guarantee.”

“Her inheritance?”

“Potentially.”

“Did she know?”

“She knew she signed a guarantee. The issue is whether she knew Northpoint’s true financial condition when she signed.”

The second account made that question dangerous.

Jason had hidden losses.

Lily’s property had become backup collateral for a company she did not know was bleeding.

Her death did not automatically transfer the assets to Jason because she changed her will.

But the guarantee survived.

If Northpoint collapsed, the Noah Trust could still be exposed.

Jason had not only risked Lily’s money.

He had risked the legacy she left after death.

My phone rang.

Detective Nolan.

They found Derek.

Not at an airport.

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At a motel forty miles south.

He had cash, a packed bag, and Lily’s missing flash drive in the glove compartment of his truck.