Chapter 11 - Vendor 417
Carter Living Group’s finance director found Vendor 417 within an hour.
The official name was Northfield Consulting LLC.
The company had billed Carter Living Group for “facility planning services” across six invoices.
Total paid:
$186,400.
The address belonged to a mailbox center outside Boston.
Nathan brought in forensic accountant Priya Shah.
By the next afternoon, she had found the beneficial owner.
A man named Lucas Mercer.
Mark’s younger brother.
Emily stared at the report.
“Does Lucas do consulting?”
“No,” Priya said.
“What does he do?”
“He owns a landscaping company.”
Daniel swore.
“Did he receive the money?”
“Northfield received it. From there, most funds moved to another account.”
“Whose?”
Priya turned her laptop.
Rachel Mercer.
Emily felt almost disappointed.
The scheme was so direct.
“Why didn’t anyone catch this?”
“The invoices were individually below internal review thresholds and approved through an old vendor credential.”
Emily looked at Nathan.
“Rachel still had access?”
“Possibly.”
Rachel had left the company four years earlier.
But Carol’s illness had created chaos.
Old vendor records remained active.
People trusted familiar names.
And Rachel knew the system.
“How much is left?” Emily asked.
Priya shook her head.
“Very little.”
“Where did it go?”
“Several transfers align with payments to Mercer Development Group.”
Mark’s failed project.
The money had not saved it.
It had only delayed collapse.
Emily leaned back.
“So Rachel stole from Mom’s company.”
Nathan corrected her.
“We can say funds appear to have been diverted. Let investigators determine criminal responsibility.”
Emily almost smiled.
Lawyers could make fire sound theoretical.
Daniel pointed at the screen.
“Mark knew.”
“Probably,” Priya said.
“But knowing his brother’s company received money and knowing those invoices were fraudulent are different questions.”
Emily remembered Mark’s message.
Check vendor 417.
“He’s turning on her.”
Nathan nodded.
“Or protecting himself.”
Both could be true.
Detective Reyes arrived later that evening.
Emily provided the accounting records.
Reyes listened without visible surprise.
“Motive helps,” she said. “But financial crimes and Sophie’s injury are separate investigations unless we can connect them.”
Emily frowned.
“Rachel wanted control of the trust.”
“Yes.”
“She tried to get me removed.”
“Yes.”
“She filed immediately after accusing me.”
“Yes.”
“So connect them.”
Reyes did not react to the frustration.
“That requires evidence.”
“What kind?”
“Communications. Planning. Witnesses. Something demonstrating that the child-welfare allegation was intentionally used to further the financial objective.”
Emily paced.
“What about the anonymous reports?”
“We’re attempting to trace them.”
“Can you?”
“Sometimes.”
“Rachel probably used burner accounts.”
“Possibly.”
Again that careful word.
Emily was beginning to understand that investigators survived by resisting the story everyone else wanted them to tell.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She opened the message.
A photograph appeared.
It showed Emily standing in her kitchen holding Sophie.
The image was taken from outside the back window.
Emily’s stomach turned.
Below it:
Stop digging into things that don’t concern you.
Daniel read over her shoulder.
“What the hell?”
Reyes took the phone.
“Don’t respond.”
“Is that Rachel?”
“I don’t know.”
The photograph appeared recent.
Emily recognized Sophie’s green blanket from last week.
Someone had stood outside their home.
Watching.
Daniel immediately checked the backyard.
No one.
Reyes requested the original message data and called another officer.
Emily stared at the photograph.
For days she had believed Rachel’s goal was control.
Now fear entered the equation.
Not fear of being accused.
Fear of being observed.
That night, Daniel moved a chair beneath the back-door handle even though they had locks and an alarm.
Emily sat beside Sophie’s crib.
At 2:11 a.m., the baby stirred.
Emily whispered, “I’m here.”
Sophie settled.
Emily looked toward the dark window.
Her own reflection stared back.
Then her phone vibrated.
Mark Mercer.
May you like
One line.
Rachel knows I talked to Daniel. I need to tell you what really happened yesterday.
