Chapter 3 - The Name Missing From the Ledger

The library doors closed at twelve seventeen.

Walter placed the ledger beneath the green desk lamp.

Adrian stood behind his father’s chair.

Celeste stayed near the window.

I stayed because Adrian asked me to.

No one mentioned that I was a maid.

Not anymore.

Walter opened to the six months before the warehouse fire.

Thomas Arden’s companies appeared again and again.

Consulting payments.

Security retainers.

Equipment leases.

Most looked legal.

That was the problem.

Walter tapped one column.

“Victor taught me to read what isn’t written.”

Adrian leaned closer.

“What’s missing?”

“Malloy’s name.”

I frowned.

“But you said the payments went to him.”

“They did.”

Walter turned the page.

“The money went through Northlight Facilities.”

I knew that name.

I had approved invoices from Northlight twice.

Cleaning supplies.

Boiler work.

Nothing unusual.

Until I remembered something.

“Northlight still bills this house.”

All three of them looked at me.

Adrian straightened.

“For what?”

“Maintenance. Small jobs. Never more than ten thousand.”

Walter went still.

“Who approves them?”

“Accounting.”

“Who submits them?”

I thought.

“Same signature every month.”

Adrian opened a drawer and pulled out the estate tablet.

I searched the archived invoices.

There it was.

Northlight Facilities.

A Queens mailing address.

And one name.

Evan Malloy.

Walter inhaled.

“Peter’s son.”

Celeste looked toward the door.

“Peter Malloy had a son?”

Walter nodded.

“One. He was nineteen when Victor died.”

Adrian stared at the invoice history.

“Why would my estate still be paying the son of the man who betrayed my father?”

Nobody answered.

So I kept searching.

The first Northlight invoice appeared eight years and eleven months earlier.

One month after the fire.

Every month after that, another payment.

Different descriptions.

Same amount range.

Same destination.

Adrian’s face became very calm.

That was when he was most dangerous.

“Who authorized the first one?”

The system only showed initials.

T.A.

Celeste whispered, “Thomas Arden.”

Adrian looked at her.

She shook her head.

“I didn’t know.”

Walter studied the screen.

“This changes the ledger.”

“How?”

“The payments didn’t stop after Victor died.”

He turned several pages.

“They continued.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed.

“So my father’s death wasn’t the end of whatever agreement they had.”

“No.”

Walter pointed to another line.

“Look at this date.”

Three days after the fire.

A transfer from an Arden company to Northlight.

Two hundred thousand dollars.

Then another transfer from Northlight to a shell company.

Adrian asked, “Whose shell company?”

Walter looked at him.

“Samuel Quinn’s.”

Celeste stepped forward.

“No.”

Adrian’s eyes hardened.

Walter shook his head.

“Quinn never controlled it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I asked him.”

Walter opened Quinn’s statement again.

Samuel said the shell company had been created using copies of his identification kept in the warehouse office.

Someone wanted a financial trail that ended with him.

Someone had built a murderer before the fire even started.

Celeste covered her mouth.

Adrian read the paragraph himself.

Then he looked at her.

“You knew Quinn was being framed.”

“I knew about the access card.”

“Not the money?”

“No.”

Walter watched her carefully.

“I believe that.”

Adrian’s gaze moved to him.

“You believe her?”

“About the money.”

Only about the money.

Celeste understood the difference.

So did Adrian.

I looked back at the invoices.

One entry caught my attention.

Not Northlight.

A different vendor.

Harbor Crown Storage.

The billing address was the same Queens address.

“Walter.”

He leaned beside me.

I pointed.

Harbor Crown had been paid by the estate for seven years.

Storage fees.

Adrian frowned.

“We don’t use them.”

“I’ve never seen a Harbor Crown contract.”

Walter’s eyes sharpened.

“Victor did.”

He turned to a section near the back of the ledger.

There.

Harbor Crown Storage.

One handwritten note beside it.

ORIGINALS OFF-SITE.

Adrian took the tablet from me.

“What originals?”

Walter looked at the wooden case.

“The ledger we have is a copy.”

Celeste stared at him.

“You told me it was the original.”

“I needed your father to think that.”

Her expression changed.

“You lied to me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Walter looked directly at her.

“Because after I helped you protect me, I needed to know whether you would protect the evidence too.”

She understood before Adrian did.

“You tested me.”

Walter nodded.

“And I failed.”

Adrian looked between them.

“What did she do?”

Walter answered.

“Two months ago, I told Celeste I was ready to come home.”

I felt the room tighten.

“She asked me to wait until after the wedding.”

Adrian’s eyes moved to her.

Celeste did not deny it.

“Why?”

Her voice was small.

“Because I thought if Walter returned first, you would never marry me.”

Adrian laughed once.

No humor in it.

“You were right.”

Celeste lowered her head.

Walter closed the ledger.

“But the originals may still exist.”

Adrian looked at the Queens address on the tablet.

“Then we find them.”

Celeste stepped forward.

“My father will know.”

Adrian looked at her.

“Good.”

For the first time that night, fear on her face was not for herself.

“You don’t understand him.”

Adrian picked up his father’s ledger.

“No.”

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His voice was quiet.

“But I’m starting to.”