Chapter 8 - The Woman Behind the Missing Money
Sabrina Cole was twenty-nine years old, had worked with Felix for eighteen months, and had apparently believed nearly everything he told her about me.
I learned this on a rainy Monday afternoon.
Evelyn had arranged a meeting after Sabrina obtained independent legal advice and agreed to discuss matters relevant to the disputed financing.
We met in a neutral conference room.
Sabrina arrived wearing a beige trench coat.
She looked nothing like the confident woman in Rachel's photograph.
Her eyes were red.
Her hands trembled slightly as she placed her handbag beside the chair.
"Thank you for coming," Evelyn said.
Sabrina nodded.
Then she looked at me.
"I owe you an apology."
I remained quiet.
She continued.
"Felix told me your marriage had been over for more than a year."
I felt my jaw tighten.
"He said you only stayed together because you couldn't afford to live separately."
I looked out the window.
There it was again.
The woman who supposedly couldn't survive without Felix.
Sabrina swallowed.
"He told me you slept in different rooms, barely spoke, and had already agreed to separate."
"Did he tell you that while he was still coming home every night?"
Her expression collapsed.
"Yes."
I wanted to hate her.
Part of me did.
But the woman sitting across from me wasn't the architect of my marriage's destruction.
Felix had made his choices.
She had made hers.
And I was not interested in pretending either of them had been powerless.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"Because Lucia lied to me, too."
Sabrina had joined Bellwether as an operations coordinator.
At first, the company appeared legitimate.
It had a modest office, several contractors, and a redevelopment project involving an aging commercial building.
Lucia managed investor relationships.
Felix handled property negotiations.
Sabrina coordinated invoices and administrative records.
The problems began when construction costs exceeded the original budget.
A contractor submitted additional charges.
Permits were delayed.
One anticipated tenant withdrew from the project.
According to Sabrina, Lucia refused to acknowledge the financial deterioration.
She began shifting payment dates, seeking short-term advances, and telling different parties that fresh capital was imminent.
Felix invested his own money.
Then he borrowed more.
Eventually, Bellwether began seeking a larger loan.
That's when Hawthorne Lane entered the conversation.
"Lucia said Felix owned a valuable residential property," Sabrina explained.
"I don't know why she believed that."
"Felix told her," I said quietly.
Sabrina nodded.
"She wanted to use its anticipated sale proceeds as part of the financing plan. Northbridge asked for proof of ownership and authorization."
I leaned forward.
"What happened next?"
"Lucia gave me a file containing old documents. She said Nora had already agreed to help."
Evelyn interrupted.
"Did you prepare any signatures?"
"No."
"Did you see who prepared the disputed form?"
"No. It arrived in the company records as a completed PDF."
"Who sent it?"
Sabrina hesitated.
"Lucia."
Evelyn took notes.
"Do you have the original message?"
"Yes."
She produced a printed email.
I didn't touch it.
Evelyn reviewed it carefully.
Sabrina continued.
"I didn't realize there was a problem until Northbridge requested direct confirmation from Nora. Lucia became furious. She said the lender was being unnecessarily cautious."
"And Felix?" I asked.
"He told me not to worry."
Of course he did.
That had always been Felix's answer whenever something required attention.
Don't worry.
Mom has it handled.
Everything will work out.
Meanwhile, other people were expected to absorb the consequences.
Sabrina's next revelation explained the missing money.
Bellwether had used two accounts for its regular business operations.
But Lucia also directed certain payments through a separate company account controlled by a related entity.
Sabrina noticed inconsistencies when she tried to reconcile contractor invoices.
Several payments were categorized as project expenses, although the corresponding documentation did not adequately identify the work performed.
A few invoices shared suspiciously similar formatting.
Others referenced suppliers she couldn't verify.
"I questioned Lucia," Sabrina said.
"What did she tell you?" Evelyn asked.
"That accounting wasn't my responsibility."
"Did you speak to Felix?"
"Yes. He said his mother had decades of experience managing money."
I almost laughed.
Lucia's actual professional background involved administrative work at a small insurance agency.
She was not an accountant.
She was not a licensed financial adviser.
And judging by the records Sabrina described, confidence had become her substitute for expertise.
"Are you saying Lucia stole the money?" I asked.
Sabrina shook her head quickly.
"I'm saying I couldn't reconcile the records, and she refused to provide explanations. I don't know where all of it went."
Evelyn nodded approvingly.
"That's an important distinction."
Sabrina looked at me again.
"Felix believed the company was experiencing a temporary cash-flow problem. He thought the new loan would stabilize everything."
"And you?"
"I wanted to believe him."
Her voice cracked.
I recognized the sentence.
I had said it about Felix for years.
Before the meeting ended, Sabrina told me something unexpected.
"Lucia hated you because you never asked her for anything."
I frowned.
"What?"
"She used to talk about you constantly."
I looked at Evelyn.
Sabrina continued.
"She said you were arrogant. That you acted like you didn't need Felix. That you had secret money and thought you were better than the Bennett family."
I felt a sharp, humorless amusement.
"She also told everyone I was poor."
"Yes."
"Did that contradiction ever bother anyone?"
Sabrina managed a weak smile.
"It bothered me eventually."
Then she lowered her eyes.
"Felix told me he needed a woman who appreciated his ambition. Lucia encouraged us to spend time together. She invited me to family dinners before you even separated."
I stared at her.
Lucia hadn't merely tolerated the affair.
She had helped cultivate it.
"Why?" I whispered.
Sabrina hesitated.
"Because I supported the business. I was willing to help Felix work toward the future Lucia wanted."
"And she thought I'd refuse."
"She said you'd fight every financial decision because you didn't understand what it meant to build wealth."
I closed my eyes.
My grandmother had spent thirty years teaching me exactly that.
But Lucia didn't want understanding.
She wanted obedience.
There was a difference.
After Sabrina left, Evelyn and I reviewed what we'd learned.
Her testimony did not resolve every question.
It did, however, provide useful leads.
Northbridge had already suspended the proposed funding.
Bellwether's investors were demanding updated information.
And Lucia's carefully managed image of financial success was beginning to collapse.
I looked at the rain outside.
"Do you think Sabrina really believed Felix?"
"Some of what she described is consistent with the messages and records we've seen. But we should verify everything independently."
I nodded.
"She seemed frightened."
"People often become frightened when they realize they've trusted the wrong person."
I glanced toward Evelyn.
"Speaking from experience?"
She smiled faintly.
"Speaking as an attorney."
That night, Felix called again.
I let it go to voicemail.
His message was brief.
"Nora, Sabrina's turning against us. I don't know what she told you, but Mom says she's trying to save herself by blaming everyone else. Please don't believe everything you hear."
An hour later, another voicemail arrived.
This time, his voice sounded smaller.
"I just found out there are more debts than Mom told me. I don't know what to do."
I didn't respond.
But I listened to that second voicemail twice.
Not because I wanted him back.
Because it was the first time Felix had admitted he didn't understand the financial situation he had so confidently blamed on me.
At ten thirty, Evelyn emailed me an update.
Northbridge had located an earlier loan application submitted eleven months before our separation.
It contained an income declaration attributed to me.
My name.
My professional details.
An estimated value for my assets.
And an attachment purporting to document my consent.
I opened the attachment.
It was worse than the disputed signature.
Because the form wasn't simply copied.
Someone had altered an old document I had previously signed.
The original concerned a legitimate investment inquiry from years earlier.
The altered version placed my signature beneath new financial representations.
And the date beside it was one I would never forget.
May you like
It was the morning of our seventh wedding anniversary.
The same day Felix had surprised me with breakfast in bed.
