Chapter 2: The Favorite Son's Secret
I didn't sleep that night.
At 7:42 Monday morning, I walked into Hawthorne & Pierce with the Holloway Home Supply numbers repeating in my head.
$86,370.
Fourteen payments.
One mysterious vendor.
One electronic authorization.
THolloway.
Trevor.
Naomi was waiting in the conference room.
There were two coffees on the table and a thick folder between them.
"Close the door.""
I did.
She pushed the folder toward me.
"Holloway Home Supply.""
I didn't touch it.
"That's my father's company.""
"I know.""
My head snapped up.
"You know?""
"I learned that after intake.""
"Then I can't work on this.""
"Correct.""
Relief mixed with disappointment.
Naomi leaned back.
"But there's something you need to know.""
I waited.
"The client isn't your father.""
I frowned.
"Who hired us?""
She slid a document across the table.
The name at the bottom made no sense.
Walter Holloway.
My grandfather.
Grandpa Walter had founded Holloway Home Supply.
He was seventy-eight, stubborn, intimidating, and mostly retired.
Dad ran the company.
Trevor acted like he owned it.
Grandpa still controlled fifty-one percent of the voting shares.
"What does Grandpa think happened?""
Naomi studied me.
"Because you're related, I can't discuss privileged details beyond what's necessary to manage the conflict.""
"Of course.""
"But he specifically requested that you not be involved.""
That surprised me.
"Why?""
"He said you're the only person in the family he trusts, which means you're the last person he wants accused of manipulating the investigation.""
I stared at her.
That sounded exactly like Grandpa.
Naomi folded her hands.
"He also said something else.""
"What?""
"He said your father doesn't know how serious the problem is.""
A chill moved through me.
"How serious?""
Naomi hesitated.
Then she turned the folder away from me.
"I can't tell you.""
That answer told me enough.
Eighty-six thousand dollars wasn't the whole problem.
I went back to my desk, but concentration was impossible.
At 10:13, Mom called.
I ignored it.
At 10:16, she called again.
Then Dad.
Then Trevor.
At 10:22, Trevor sent a message.
You had no right to involve outsiders.
I stared at it.
I hadn't.
That meant he knew about the investigation.
How?
I typed back.
I didn't hire anyone.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then nothing.
At lunch, Grandpa Walter called.
"Meet me at Dawson's.""
"Grandpa—"
"One o'clock.""
He hung up.
Dawson's Diner hadn't changed since I was ten.
Same red booths.
Same chrome counter.
Same waitress calling everyone "honey.""
Grandpa sat in the back corner with black coffee.
He looked older than I remembered.
But his eyes were sharp.
"Sit.""
I sat.
"You hired my firm.""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"Because somebody's stealing from me.""
"Trevor?""
Grandpa lifted his cup.
"I didn't say that.""
"You didn't have to.""
His eyes narrowed.
"That's exactly why you're not on the investigation.""
I leaned back.
"Then why am I here?""
He reached into his jacket and placed a small notebook on the table.
"I started noticing things eighteen months ago.""
"What things?""
"Margins shrinking when sales were rising.""
I frowned.
"That's possible.""
"Not the way they were shrinking.""
He pushed the notebook toward me.
His handwriting filled the pages.
Dates.
Amounts.
Vendor names.
Inventory counts.
"Why didn't you tell Dad?""
"I did.""
"And?""
"He blamed inflation.""
"Trevor?""
Grandpa gave a humorless laugh.
"Trevor blamed everybody except Trevor.""
I looked through the pages.
Then one name caught my attention.
TMG Consulting.
"Grandpa.""
"I know.""
"What does TMG stand for?""
His expression hardened.
"Trevor Michael Grant.""
I froze.
Grant was Mom's maiden name.
Trevor's middle name was Michael.
"T-M-G.""
Grandpa nodded.
"I found the LLC registration.""
My stomach dropped.
"Trevor owns it?""
"Not officially.""
"Who does?""
Grandpa stared at me.
"Your mother.""
I stopped breathing.
"No.""
"Registered eighteen months ago.""
"Mom doesn't know anything about consulting.""
"Exactly.""
I closed the notebook.
"Does Dad know?""
"I don't know.""
"What do you mean?""
"I mean I'm trying to determine whether my son is stupid, dishonest, or both.""
I stared at him.
Grandpa rarely softened his words.
"Why would Mom create a company?""
"You tell me.""
I thought about graduation.
Bellini's.
Trevor's promotion.
Mom's automatic defense of him.
Then I remembered something else.
Dad saying the discrepancy was eighty thousand.
If Grandpa had been tracking problems for eighteen months, why did Dad only know about eighty thousand?
"How much is actually missing?""
Grandpa looked toward the window.
"Potentially seven hundred thousand.""
The diner seemed to tilt.
"What?""
"Maybe more.""
"How?""
"Payments. Inventory. Equipment purchases.
Reimbursements. I don't know yet.""
My mouth went dry.
"And Trevor has access to all of it?""
"Trevor has access to too much.""
I lowered my voice.
"Why haven't you suspended him?""
"Because I want to know who else is involved.""
That answer scared me more than anything else.
I left Dawson's twenty minutes later.
Mom was waiting outside my apartment when I got home.
She stood beside her Lexus with her arms folded.
"We need to talk.""
"How did you know where I live?""
"Paige.""
It was ridiculous that I had to ask.
My parents had never visited my apartment.
Not once.
I unlocked the building door.
"You can come upstairs for ten minutes.""
The moment we entered, Mom turned on me.
"What did you tell your grandfather?""
"Nothing.""
"Don't lie.""
"I'm not.""
"Trevor says you accused him of stealing.""
"I said payments were made using his credentials.""
"Same thing.""
"No, Mom. Facts and accusations aren't the same thing.""
She stared at me.
"College really changed you.""
I almost smiled.
"No. College taught me words for things I already understood.""
Her face tightened.
"Your brother made mistakes.""
I went still.
"What mistakes?""
She realized too late what she'd said.
"Nothing illegal.""
"That's an interesting answer considering I didn't ask whether anything was illegal.""
"Stop talking like a lawyer.""
"I'm an accountant.""
"Exactly.""
The contempt in that one word stunned me.
Then I understood.
My degree had only become valuable when they needed me to protect Trevor.
"What is TMG Consulting?""
Mom's face drained.
There it was.
The answer before the answer.
"Who told you about that?""
"So you know.""
"It's legitimate.""
"What does it do?""
She looked away.
"Business services.""
"What services?""
"Paige, you're being impossible.""
I laughed once.
"That's what you say when you don't have an answer.""
She grabbed her purse.
"I came here because your brother needs you.""
"Needs me to do what?""
"Talk to your grandfather.""
"No.""
"Tell him this is being exaggerated.""
"No.""
"Paige.""
"No.""
Her voice rose.
"After everything this family has done for you—"
I stared at her.
"What exactly has this family done for me?""
She stopped.
I stepped closer.
"Did you pay my tuition?""
Silence.
"My rent?""
Nothing.
"My books?""
Nothing.
"Did you even come to my graduation?""
Her eyes hardened.
"This isn't about graduation.""
"You're right.""
I nodded.
"It's about the fact that Trevor gets protected from every consequence, and I'm expected to clean up whatever he breaks.""
"You've always been jealous of him.""
That sentence finally broke something in me.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
It simply snapped.
"I saved three chairs for you.""
Mom blinked.
"What?""
"At graduation.""
I felt my throat tighten, but I kept going.
"I saved three chairs because I genuinely believed you'd come. Even after years of being treated like I was less important, I still believed you'd walk through that door.""
"Paige—"
"You were twenty-five minutes away.""
She said nothing.
"You didn't miss my graduation because you were sick. You didn't miss it because of an emergency. You chose Trevor's promotion dinner.""
Her expression shifted.
For one second, I thought she might apologize.
Instead she said, "Trevor needed us.""
I nodded slowly.
"And I didn't.""
Mom looked away.
That was the answer.
I opened the door.
"You should leave.""
She stepped into the hallway.
Then she turned.
"If your grandfather destroys Trevor's future over a bookkeeping mistake, I hope you can live with yourself.""
I met her eyes.
"If it's only a bookkeeping mistake, the investigation will prove that.""
Her mouth tightened.
She walked away.
I closed the door.
Then my phone rang.
Dad.
I almost ignored him.
Something made me answer.
"Hello?""
His breathing sounded uneven.
"Paige.""
"What happened?""
"I need you to come to the house.""
"Why?""
He lowered his voice.
"Your brother is gone.""
I gripped the phone.
"What do you mean gone?""
"His apartment is empty.""
My pulse jumped.
"When?""
"I don't know.""
Then Dad said the words that changed the entire situation.
"And Paige?""
"Yes?""
"Two hundred and forty thousand dollars disappeared from the company operating account this morning.""
I closed my eyes.
Dad's voice cracked.
"The transfer was authorized at 6:14 a.m.""
"By Trevor?""
"No.""
I opened my eyes.
"Then who?""
Dad went silent.
May you like
When he finally answered, he sounded like a man discovering that the life he trusted had been built on something rotten.
"Your mother.""
