Chapter 3 - The Audit
“If Julian lied to you about the loan terms,” Rhea continued over the speakerphone, her keyboard clicking rapidly in the background, “and he lied to my family about where the money was coming from, then where did the $45,000 go?”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on Asha’s desk. “What $45,000?”
“Three weeks ago,” Rhea explained, her tone turning razor-sharp, “Julian told me that your legal counsel required an advance retainer and architectural appraisal deposit of $45,000 to process the incoming $300,000 escrow transfer. I authorized a wire transfer from Vale House’s primary operating account directly into a secondary account Julian created under the name Vale Strategic Consulting LLC.”
Asha immediately opened a corporate registry tab. Within ten seconds, she pulled up the registration for Vale Strategic Consulting LLC.
“Julian is the sole managing member of that LLC,” Asha noted, showing me the screen. “Camille, did you or my office ever request or receive a $45,000 advance retainer from Vale House?”
“Never,” I said, cold fury settling deep into my chest. “I paid all of Asha’s legal fees out of my own personal checking account.”
On the phone, Rhea let out a breath that sounded like a strike of steel against flint. “He stole from his own family’s dying business to fund his personal lifestyle while telling us he was saving the company.”
“He was playing both sides,” Asha analyzed ruthlessly. “He promised his mother free cash to clear her tax problems and act like the golden son, while promising Camille a secured investment to get her to deposit the $300,000 into escrow. He was using the escrow balance as leverage to keep Vale House's creditors from filing suit while he siphoned off operational funds from the inn.”
“He has a court date on Monday,” Rhea said suddenly. “The primary lender, Hudson Valley Commercial Bank, filed a conditional standstill agreement. If $286,000 isn't deposited into their trustee account by 5:00 PM on Monday, they execute an emergency receivership order. They take control of the inn, cancel all scheduled weddings for the season, and seize the bank accounts.”
“And without my $300,000,” I added, “the venue collapses on Monday afternoon.”
“It collapses completely,” Rhea confirmed. “We have fourteen weddings booked over the next six weeks. Couples have paid over $200,000 in non-refundable event deposits. If receivership hits, those deposits are frozen, the staff is locked out, and my mother’s precious pride turns into a criminal fraud investigation.”
There was a long pause on the line. I looked at the red wine stain still sitting on the fabric of my coat in the corner of the office.
“Rhea,” I said quietly. “Does your mother know about the $45,000 Julian embezzled through his shell company?”
“No,” Rhea replied bitterly. “Lenora believes Julian is an absolute financial genius who found a desperate, rich orphan to write a check to save her precious ancestral home. She’s currently sitting in the garden parlor planning the press release about our 'triumphant restructuring.'”
“Let her plan,” I said, a cold, clear resolve taking hold of me. “Rhea, I want an emergency meeting at Vale House tomorrow morning at 10:00 AM. I want your mother, your father, Julian, you, and my attorney in the main library.”
May you like
“My mother will never agree to meet with you after last night,” Rhea warned. “Her pride won't allow it.”
“Tell her,” I said, leaning closer to the phone, “that if she isn't sitting at that table at 10:00 AM sharp, my attorney will file an immediate civil fraud complaint and an emergency freeze order against Julian’s accounts by noon. Let’s see how much her pride is worth when the sheriff shows up to serve papers during Sunday brunch.”
