Chapter 5 - MY NAME IN THEIR BOOKS
I wanted to say every authorization was false.
Dana would not let me.
“We verify before we deny.”
A cybersecurity firm reviewed company logs under the preservation order. My account had been accessed from three places: my studio, Bennett Timberworks headquarters, and Richard’s home.
I had never used it at Richard’s house.
The headquarters access was harder to explain.
Two years earlier, during a software change, I had given Evan a temporary authentication token so he could migrate my licensing records.
I never revoked it.
“That was careless,” I said.
Dana did not disagree.
My failure did not authorize fraud, but it gave Evan a plausible argument that I had delegated access.
The party venue’s security footage arrived without sound. It showed Evan raising the castle and throwing it. It showed Leo collapsing to his knees. It showed Richard stepping into my path.
It also showed me lifting the leather case while relatives backed away.
The complete visual sequence weakened the edited clip, but it did not prove the financial scheme.
Evan released a statement claiming he destroyed the model after Leo accidentally knocked a drink onto confidential papers.
No drink had touched the case.
Richard supported him.
Margaret told relatives she remembered Leo running through the ballroom moments earlier.
She had begun manufacturing harmless details around the deliberate act.
I met Nora again.
This time Dana attended.
Nora brought copies of purchase orders, receiving logs, and wire summaries she had preserved as part of routine monthly reporting.
Alder Ridge invoiced Bennett Timberworks for premium certified walnut, white oak, and structural laminated timber.
The company’s warehouse records showed only a fraction of those materials arriving.
“What covered the missing quantities?” I asked.
“Purchases from smaller mills,” Nora said.
“Were they cheaper?”
“Much.”
“Were they certified?”
“Some were. Some records are incomplete.”
My stomach tightened.
Bennett Timberworks supplied structural wood systems for libraries, schools, and civic buildings. Missing certifications could trigger inspections, contract claims, and public-safety reviews.
“Did Richard know?”
“He signed four releases.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I do not know what he understood.”
Nora opened a second folder.
Alder Ridge wires went to an account at Hartwell Community Bank. Three days later, most of the money moved to a real-estate development called Bennett Landing.
Evan had announced Bennett Landing two years earlier as an independent luxury-townhouse project.
He claimed outside investors funded it.
The project had stalled after foundation work.
Company money appeared to be keeping it alive.
“Why?” I asked.
Nora’s voice dropped.
“Richard personally guaranteed the development loan.”
The motive sharpened.
If Bennett Landing failed, Richard could lose more than reputation.
He could lose the family house, the original mill land, and control of the company.
Alder Ridge was being used to move money out of Bennett Timberworks and into the development.
Before we could trace ownership, Nora received an email.
Her access to company systems had been terminated.
Evan accused her of removing confidential records.
Then Dana’s phone rang.
A judge had granted Bennett Timberworks a temporary order preventing me from terminating the company’s design licenses until the court determined ownership and contractual rights.
Evan had submitted corporate minutes stating that I assigned my patents to the company twelve years earlier.
The minutes carried my signature.
May you like
Unlike the party proxy, this signature was handwritten in blue ink.
And at first glance, it looked genuine.
