Chapter 4 - The File With My Name on It
My father stood so quickly his chair struck the wall.
“You son of a bitch.”
Neil Patterson stopped near the door.
Security moved between them.
Charles raised one hand.
“Sit down.”
Dad’s face had gone red.
“Charles, you don’t understand what this man has done.”
Neil laughed bitterly.
“What I’ve done?”
Dad pointed at him.
“You stole from me.”
Lauren whispered, “From you?”
Dad realized the mistake immediately.
The room went quiet.
Charles leaned back.
“That’s an interesting choice of words.”
Dad sat.
Slowly.
Neil took the chair across from him.
He looked older than I remembered.
Gray at the temples.
Deep circles under his eyes.
Hands trembling slightly.
He placed the briefcase on the table.
“I contacted internal audit three weeks ago.”
Priya nodded.
That explained the investigation.
Neil continued.
“I should’ve done it years ago.”
Dad stared at him.
“Don’t pretend you’re a victim.”
“I’m not.”
Neil looked at me.
“Neither is he.”
I held his gaze.
“Start at the beginning.”
Neil swallowed.
“Six years ago, after your company sale, Robert approached me.”
“About what?”
“Setting up an entity.”
“Carter Strategic Logistics.”
“Yes.”
“Why that name?”
Neil looked toward Dad.
“Ask him.”
I did.
Dad said nothing.
Neil answered anyway.
“Because your reputation was useful.”
A cold feeling moved through my chest.
“What reputation?”
“You had built a legitimate company. Your case studies were public. Your client results were public. Whitmore procurement staff had heard of you.”
“So Dad created a fake version.”
“It wasn’t technically fake.”
Lauren interrupted.
“That sentence is never followed by anything good.”
Neil nodded.
“It was a registered company.”
“With no employees?” she asked.
“No full-time employees.”
“No office?”
“Mail service.”
“No actual consulting?”
Neil hesitated.
“Some subcontracted reports.”
“Copied from my work?”
“Some.”
I sat back.
Dad finally spoke.
“You sold the company.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“You sold it, Ethan. You were done with it.”
“That gave you the right to steal my identity?”
“I didn’t steal your identity.”
“You named a company after mine and copied my work.”
“Similar name.”
Lauren muttered, “That’ll play beautifully in court.”
Dad snapped, “Stay out of this.”
She stared at him.
“I’m his attorney today. So no.”
Charles asked Neil, “How were payments arranged?”
Neil opened his briefcase.
He removed a binder.
“Robert identified Whitmore projects with discretionary consulting budgets. CSL submitted invoices. Robert approved them.”
“And the money?”
“Split.”
“How?”
“Forty percent to accounts Robert controlled. Thirty percent to me. The remainder covered taxes, subcontractors, and expenses.”
Dad leaned forward.
“You took more than that.”
Neil looked at him.
“Because you stopped paying me.”
My stomach turned.
They weren’t arguing about innocence.
They were arguing about percentages.
Charles looked physically sick.
“Robert.”
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
For the first time, he looked old.
“I can explain.”
Charles’s voice sharpened.
“You’ve had twenty minutes.”
Dad turned toward me.
“This wasn’t supposed to touch you.”
I laughed once.
“You used my name.”
“Not your legal name.”
“My company.”
“You’d sold it.”
“You keep saying that like it matters.”
“It mattered to me.”
There was something strange in his voice.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Dad looked toward the window.
Then something came together in my mind.
The timing.
The sale.
His resentment.
My success.
“You started this after I sold the company.”
He said nothing.
“Why?”
Neil answered softly.
“Because of the sale price.”
I looked at him.
“What about it?”
Dad closed his eyes.
Neil said, “Robert found out.”
I had never told my parents exactly how much I made.
After taxes and obligations, my personal proceeds were a little over eleven million dollars.
Enough to change my life.
Not enough to stop working.
I invested most of it.
Dad had assumed I walked away with a few hundred thousand.
Apparently, he had learned the truth.
“How?”
Neil looked ashamed.
“I told him.”
“Why?”
“He introduced us. I assumed you had discussed it.”
My father opened his eyes.
“I asked you for help.”
I stared.
“When?”
“After the sale.”
“You asked if I could loan you money for the lake-house renovation.”
“Exactly.”
“You asked for seventy-five thousand dollars.”
“And you said no.”
“I offered twenty.”
Dad laughed bitterly.
“You had eleven million.”
“It was my money.”
“I’m your father.”
“And?”
The word came out colder than I intended.
Moments from childhood flooded back.
Dad telling me to pay my own college application fees because responsibility built character.
Dad giving Lauren a used car, then making me buy mine.
Dad refusing to invest five thousand dollars when I launched my company.
“I’m not funding a hobby,” he had said.
Years later, when that hobby sold for millions, he decided my money belonged to him.
Dad looked at me.
“You could have helped your family.”
“I did.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“I paid off Mom’s medical debt.”
He froze.
“I paid Grandpa’s property taxes when his pension issue happened.”
Thomas had made me swear not to tell.
“I covered Lauren’s bar-exam loan.”
Lauren looked surprised.
“You told me that scholarship—”
“Was anonymous.”
Her eyes filled.
I continued.
“I paid for the roof on your house.”
Dad’s mouth opened.
“That insurance check—”
“Wasn’t insurance.”
He stared.
“I helped.”
The room remained silent.
“I just didn’t hand you seventy-five thousand dollars for a second kitchen at the lake.”
Dad looked away.
Neil spoke.
“Robert was angry.”
“No kidding.”
“He said Whitmore undervalued him.”
Dad’s head snapped up.
“Enough.”
Neil ignored him.
“He said he had built Charles’s fortune while everyone else got rich.”
Charles stared at my father.
Neil continued.
“He wanted what he believed he was owed.”
“So you invented CSL,” Lauren said.
“Yes.”
Dad slammed his palm against the table.
“You agreed.”
“I know.”
“You took the money.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to sit there acting righteous.”
Neil’s voice cracked.
“I’m not righteous. I’m confessing.”
That shut Dad up.
I looked at Neil.
“Why now?”
“My daughter.”
“What about her?”
“She found records after my wife died. Asked me what they were.”
His eyes watered.
“I lied to her.”
Nobody spoke.
“She looked at me the way a child looks at a stranger.”
He swallowed.
“I couldn’t live with it anymore.”
Charles asked, “Did Robert know you were cooperating?”
“No.”
“Did you send Ethan the photo?”
Neil shook his head.
“No.”
I stiffened.
“Then who did?”
Everyone looked at me.
Dad’s expression changed again.
This time, fear.
I noticed.
“You know.”
“No.”
“Yes, you do.”
Dad stood.
“I’m done.”
Security stepped toward him.
Charles said, “You’re suspended effective immediately.”
Dad stared at him.
“After twenty-seven years?”
“After stealing from this company?”
“You don’t know the whole story.”
“Then sit down and tell it.”
Dad looked at me.
His face was no longer angry.
It was desperate.
“Ethan, I need to speak to you privately.”
“No.”
“Please.”
That word shocked me.
My father rarely said please.
Not to me.
Lauren touched my arm.
I shook my head.
“If you have something to say, say it here.”
Dad looked around the table.
Then slowly sat again.
“There’s another account.”
Priya immediately opened her laptop.
“What account?”
Dad looked at me.
“It’s in your name.”
My skin went cold.
Lauren leaned forward.
“What kind of account?”
Dad whispered, “An investment account.”
“How much?”
He didn’t answer.
“How much, Dad?”
His eyes dropped.
“About four million.”
I stopped breathing.
“That’s impossible.”
“It was supposed to be temporary.”
“What was?”
Dad looked at me.
“I used your Social Security number.”
Nobody moved.
Lauren stood.
“You did what?”
Dad raised both hands.
“Six years ago. Only to establish the account.”
“You committed identity theft.”
“I was going to fix it.”
“For six years?”
“It grew.”
I stared at him.
“What is in that account?”
Dad looked at Charles.
Then Neil.
Then me.
“Money from more than Whitmore.”
Charles’s face darkened.
“How much more?”
Dad whispered, “A lot.”
Before anyone could speak, Priya’s laptop chimed.
She stared at the screen.
“What?” Charles asked.
Priya didn’t answer.
She turned the laptop toward us.
A newly discovered account had appeared in the audit trail.
My name was listed as the owner.
The current balance was not four million dollars.
May you like
It was $12,416,903.
And a withdrawal had been initiated at 8:47 that morning.
