Chapter 7
“That is a reasonable place to start.”
We filed for divorce.
We requested temporary restrictions preventing either spouse from moving major assets.
Michael began tracing Blue Mesa.
Separate counsel started preparing identity-theft notices.
Then Jason did something predictable.
He went online.
Without naming me, he wrote about “people who turn private disagreements into public spectacles.”
He implied I had attacked him at dinner.
Caroline told me not to respond.
“Evidence is more useful than a comment section.”
So I stayed silent.
Jason interpreted silence the same way he always had.
As weakness.
Two days later, he called fourteen times.
I answered none of them.
The Colorado Department of Revenue had sent Reed Supply a records request connected to discrepancies discovered during an unrelated vendor audit.
My forensic accountant hadn’t caused it.
He had simply discovered that someone else was already looking.
By noon, Michael sent me a preliminary report.
Blue Mesa had received approximately $1.74 million.
Some transactions might have been legitimate international purchasing activity.
Others had no supporting documentation at all.
At least two signatures that appeared to be mine had been copied from older documents.
I stared at the screen.
Jason hadn’t merely asked me to sign something complicated.
Someone had taken my signature and reused it.
That evening, he appeared in the lobby of Megan’s apartment building.
I agreed to speak with him only because cameras covered the entire seating area and Megan remained nearby.
Jason looked exhausted.
“Five minutes.”
I sat across from him.
“They’re asking for three years of vendor documents,” he said. “If they examine everything, this could destroy Reed Supply.”
“Are the books false?”
He looked away.
That was enough.
“Sarah, I need time.”
“Talk to your attorney.”
“I’m talking to my wife.”
“Not for much longer.”
His jaw tightened.
“What do you want? The house? Half the company? Blue Mesa?”
I almost laughed.
“You think I want the offshore account?”
His expression changed slightly.
“I want my name removed from it. I want protection from any liabilities created through it. I want every legitimate marital asset disclosed. Then I want the court to divide things fairly.”
He stared at me.
“You don’t want the money?”
“I don’t even know whether the money is legal.”
For the first time, Jason seemed confused by me.
He had spent so long believing everyone was motivated the way he was.
Then he leaned closer.
“You signed the foreign documents.”