Chapter 13 - Maya’s Money
Marcus called Lorraine at 7:12 the next morning.
She answered on the second ring.
“What happened?”
“The custodial account.”
Silence.
“What about it?”
“Forty-eight thousand dollars is gone.”
Lorraine logged in.
Marcus waited.
“That’s impossible.”
“It’s on my screen.”
More typing.
Then Lorraine inhaled.
“There were two distributions.”
“When?”
“March and May.”
“To whom?”
“I’m tracing them.”
Marcus paced.
The account was a UTMA account established for Maya.
Marcus was custodian.
Money could legally be used for Maya’s benefit, but it was not Marcus’s personal money.
And Camille was not the custodian.
Lorraine finally spoke.
“The requests were submitted electronically under your credentials.”
“I didn’t make them.”
“Twenty-five thousand in March. Twenty-three in May.”
“Destination?”
Another silence.
“Holt Hospitality Group.”
Marcus sat down.
The same company.
Darren.
Lorraine’s voice sharpened.
“Marcus, this is different from the joint savings. Camille had legal access to the joint account. She did not have authority to withdraw from Maya’s custodial account.”
“How?”
“She had your credentials.”
“And my signature.”
“Yes.”
Marcus thought of the missing silver flash drive.
Elena’s box.
The forged documents.
Darren answered Marcus’s call immediately.
“You told me Camille gave you about forty-eight thousand.”
“She did.”
“That was from joint savings.”
Darren sounded confused.
“What are you saying?”
“She also transferred forty-eight thousand from Maya’s account.”
Darren went silent.
“I didn’t get ninety-six thousand.”
Marcus froze.
“What?”
“I got forty-eight total.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Marcus checked the transfer instructions Lorraine sent.
The destination account was named Holt Hospitality Group.
But the final four account digits did not match Darren’s business account.
It was another account using the same description.
A deliberately misleading label.
Marcus forwarded the information to Rachel and Lorraine.
By afternoon, they traced it.
The account belonged to an LLC formed eight months earlier.
CHL Ventures.
Registered organizer:
Camille H. Reed.
Marcus almost smiled at the simplicity.
C.H.L.
Camille Harper Lewis—her maiden names before Reed.
The money had not gone to Darren.
It had gone to Camille.
From there, portions moved elsewhere.
$8,500 to Northgate.
$2,400 to Wallace.
$6,200 to a real-estate escrow company.
$4,800 to a private credit card.
$12,000 remained.
The rest had been spent in smaller amounts.
Rachel’s expression was grim.
“Now we are outside ordinary marital spending.”
Marcus stared at the transaction list.
“She stole from Maya.”
“Do not use legal conclusions casually. But yes, this may be a serious breach of fiduciary and potentially criminal conduct depending on how the transfers were authenticated.”
Marcus laughed without humor.
“You lawyers have a careful way of saying terrible things.”
“We’re paid to.”
He called the investment company’s fraud department.
They opened an investigation and froze further access.
Marcus then made a police report on the unauthorized transactions and forged electronic documents.
Nothing dramatic happened.
No sirens.
No immediate arrest.
An investigator took the information and explained financial cases required records and verification.
Marcus almost appreciated the lack of spectacle.
Real consequences arrived through paperwork first.
That evening Maya was building a cardboard house at the kitchen table.
Marcus watched her tape two walls together.
She had no idea adults were discussing whether money intended for her future had been taken.
He wanted to preserve that innocence.
But he had promised himself not to hide everything.
“Remember when you said Camille talked about money your mom left you?”
Maya nodded.
“She wasn’t supposed to use it.”
“Did she?”
“We’re figuring that out.”
Maya placed the tape down.
“Is it gone?”
“Some of it may be.”
Her face tightened.
“Was it because I cost too much?”
“No.”
Marcus moved beside her.
“Nothing about this happened because you needed food, clothes, school supplies, or anything else.”
Maya nodded slowly.
Then she whispered, “Camille said if I went to the school, the money would stop being wasted.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Northgate.
Residential placement.
The lake house.
The money.
They were not separate decisions.
They were pieces of the same plan.
His phone rang.
Rachel.
“Marcus, we found the escrow payment.”
“The six thousand?”
“Yes.”
“What was it for?”
“A reservation deposit.”
“For the lake house?”
“No.”
Marcus frowned.
Rachel continued.
“It was paid to Briarwood Academy.”
The residential school Camille wanted to send Maya to.
May you like
She had already reserved a place.
Before Marcus even knew the school existed.
