Chapter 4 - The Name Inside the Ledger
“He was seventeen,” Harper said.
Mateo stared at the signature.
“He couldn't have signed this.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Exactly.”
“So it's forged.”
“Or dated incorrectly.”
Harper took the paper.
Forensic accounting had taught her not to fall in love with the first theory.
Documents lied.
Dates lied.
People lied.
Patterns were harder to fool.
“Where did you get this?”
“An archive box from the old Falcone offices.”
“Chain of custody?”
“None.”
“Then we prove nothing with it.”
Mateo looked impatient.
“It has Liam's name.”
“It has handwriting that resembles Liam's. That's not the same thing.”
Harper returned to the ledger.
She studied the G-17 entries.
Quarter after quarter.
Same amount.
Same timing.
Then something bothered her.
“Why $83,333.33?”
Evelyn answered first.
“One million annually.”
“No. If you wanted to move one million a year, you'd use monthly transfers or irregular amounts. Quarterly payments this precise are a message.”
Mateo leaned closer.
“A message to whom?”
Harper calculated.
She wrote the numbers.
Then dates.
Then account codes.
A pattern emerged.
“Page numbers.”
She flipped to page 83.
Line 33 didn't exist.
But entry 33 did.
Another 33 appeared in the reference column.
Harper followed it to another ledger.
There.
A handwritten name.
Patrick Gallagher.
Mateo exhaled.
Harper kept searching.
Beside Patrick's name was a second notation.
GF/17.
“Gabriel Falcone, seventeen?”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Gabriel was thirty-four.”
“Then 17 means something else.”
Mateo's phone rang.
Liam.
He answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
Harper could hear Liam's voice faintly.
“Parking garage.”
“Come upstairs.”
“I can't.”
Mateo's expression changed.
“Why?”
“Because someone is following me.”
Harper and Evelyn exchanged a look.
Liam continued.
“I saw the same gray sedan twice this week. It's here.”
“Stay where you are.”
“No.”
“Liam.”
“Listen to me. Don't bring Harper downstairs.”
Mateo's eyes moved toward her.
“How do you know Harper is still here?”
Silence.
Then Liam said, “Because whoever sent that photograph wanted her to stay.”
The call ended.
Mateo swore.
Harper grabbed her coat.
“No.”
She stared at him.
“I didn't say anything.”
“You're thinking about going downstairs.”
“That's irritating.”
“You're not going.”
“Liam may know why someone tracked me for eight months.”
“And if he does, I'll bring him back.”
Mateo left with two security men.
Harper watched the elevator close.
Then turned to Evelyn.
“Show me everything you found.”
For the next fifteen minutes, they spread documents across Mateo's desk.
Harper's back hurt.
Her ankles hurt.
Her daughter seemed determined to practice gymnastics beneath her ribs.
She ignored all three.
The answer was here.
She knew it.
Then she noticed something.
“Evelyn.”
“What?”
“The payments stopped.”
Evelyn leaned closer.
Harper pointed.
Six months ago.
The G-17 transfers ended.
“That was two months after I disappeared.”
“And shortly before Simon died,” Evelyn said.
Harper searched the digital records.
Then she found a new account.
Same amount.
Different beneficiary.
HQC Holdings.
Harper stared at the initials.
H.Q.
Harper Quinn.
“No.”
Evelyn saw it.
“Someone created an account using your initials.”
“When?”
Harper opened the metadata.
Her blood ran cold.
Three weeks after she disappeared.
The same week she learned she was pregnant.
Someone had known.
Not only where she was.
Someone knew she was pregnant almost immediately.
“How?”
Evelyn whispered.
“Clinic records?”
“I used another name.”
“Payment?”
“Cash.”
“Phone?”
“Burner.”
Harper stood.
The room tilted again.
This time it wasn't fear.
A tightening moved across her abdomen.
She breathed through it.
Evelyn noticed.
“Harper?”
“I'm fine.”
“That looked like a contraction.”
“Braxton Hicks.”
“You're sure?”
“No, but confidence is free.”
Evelyn gave her a look.
Harper returned to the screen.
HQC Holdings had received three transfers.
Then stopped.
The beneficiary address was a post office box in Milwaukee.
Harper knew that box.
She had rented it.
No one else should have known.
She opened the supporting documentation.
A scanned receipt appeared.
Harper stared.
The signature was hers.
Except she had never signed it.
Someone had forged her signature again.
Then she noticed the witness.
L. Gallagher.
“Liam.”
Evelyn leaned closer.
The elevator chimed.
Harper turned.
Mateo entered alone.
His face told her something had happened.
“Where's Liam?”
“Gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“The sedan left before we reached the garage. So did Liam's car.”
“Did he call?”
“No.”
Harper showed him the document.
Mateo read it.
His expression became unreadable.
“Tell me you have an explanation,” Harper said.
“I don't.”
The phone on Mateo's desk rang.
Not his cell.
The private office line.
Mateo answered.
No one spoke.
Then a man's voice.
“Ask Harper why she really came back.”
Mateo looked at her.
Harper felt cold.
“Who is this?”
The caller laughed quietly.
Then disconnected.
Harper stared at Mateo.
“I came back because Simon died.”
Mateo said nothing.
“You believe me?”
“Yes.”
But his eyes had shifted to the ledgers.
Harper followed his gaze.
One of them was open.
A page she hadn't opened.
Someone had written something across it in fresh black ink.
Harper stepped closer.
Her name.
HARPER QUINN.
Beneath it:
THE BABY CHANGES EVERYTHING.
Harper's heart pounded.
Evelyn backed away.
“That wasn't there.”
“No,” Harper whispered.
Mateo turned toward the security camera in the corner.
Its indicator light was off.
Someone had entered this office.
Someone had written in the ledger.
And they had done it while Harper was inside Falcone Tower.
Then the private door behind the bookshelves clicked.
May you like
Harper had never known there was a door there.
It slowly opened from the other side.
