Chapter 10
"A signature tells us who signed," she said. "We still need to establish what the company did, what it received, and who approved payment."
Marjorie authorized the independent accountants to begin earlier than planned. Their assignment expanded from a routine review to examining the identified payments and related controls.
I remained outside that assignment. I worked with financial records for a living, but I was also the person who had been humiliated in the ballroom, and I wanted findings nobody could dismiss as my revenge.
By Monday afternoon, the first questions were serious enough that Marjorie stopped pretending she was merely worried about a family misunderstanding.
Northline had received seventeen payments totaling $286,000 over eighteen months. The descriptions included heating-system repairs, replacement fixtures, and emergency work on rooms taken out of service.
For several listed jobs, the hotel's own work orders named different contractors. Those contractors had already been paid separately.
In two cases, Northline's invoices described replacements that the maintenance supervisor said had never occurred. The original equipment was still in place.
Grant had approved every payment.
The accountants requested supporting records. They were careful to describe the amount as money under review until the work was complete.
Marjorie listened without interrupting. Then she asked whether payroll and ordinary operating expenses were secure while they continued.
She did not collapse. She returned to work.
Watching her, I understood how much Grant's version of his mother depended on everyone forgetting she had helped build the business.
Wendy brought me a separate folder that evening. It contained our wedding contracts, refund confirmations, and the costs vendors were still calculating.
Reed and I had committed $32,400 to outside services. Some deposits could be transferred to a new date, but other goods had already been purchased and work completed.
Those numbers had once represented choices: the flowers my mother loved, music Reed remembered from his childhood, dinner for the people who had watched us become a couple.
Now they were evidence of losses somebody else had deliberately caused.
I went home with Joan. My suitcase remained upstairs at the hotel, and I didn't want to sleep beside the dress yet.
In my kitchen, she warmed soup while I opened old messages from Avery.
When are you meeting Marjorie's accountant?
Are you really keeping your job after the wedding?
Has Reed decided what to do with his inheritance?
At the time, each question had sounded like interest. Together, they read like a report being assembled.