Chapter 7 - BRENDA’S SECRET
Brenda arrived at my office the next morning carrying a small leather folder.
She had no attorney.
That surprised Elena.
It worried me.
People with no lawyer either believed they had done nothing wrong or had decided they had nothing left to protect.
Brenda sat across from me.
“I assume you found the fifty thousand.”
“Yes.”
“It wasn’t what you think.”
I resisted the urge to laugh.
That phrase had also become popular.
“Then tell me what it was.”
“My husband’s retirement savings.”
“That explains the source.”
“Thomas said we could buy into Oakridge.”
“Why would you want to?”
She looked embarrassed.
“Because we rent.”
“So do most people here.”
“He said the redevelopment would make us wealthy.”
“What redevelopment?”
She opened the leather folder.
Inside were architectural renderings.
Luxury townhomes.
Retail space.
A boutique hotel.
A private fitness club.
The Oakridge I knew had been erased from the drawings.
In its place stood a dense mixed-use development.
I turned the first rendering toward Elena.
“Have you seen this?”
“No.”
Brenda continued.
“Thomas said once Vance sold, Oakridge Acquisition Partners would apply for rezoning.”
I stared at her.
“And the current residents?”
“He said leases would be allowed to expire gradually.”
My voice cooled.
“You mean people would leave.”
She looked down.
“Yes.”
“Margaret Keller?”
Silence.
“Daniel Cho and his wife?”
Silence.
“The families who believed they were paying deposits to buy their homes?”
“I didn’t know about those deposits.”
“Did you invest fifty thousand while serving as HOA treasurer?”
“Yes.”
“And you never disclosed your financial interest in a company trying to buy the development?”
“No.”
Elena wrote something.
Brenda wiped her palms against her skirt.
“I know how it looks.”
“It looks like a conflict of interest.”
“It was.”
That answer surprised me.
“I’m not going to pretend.”
She looked at me.
“I wanted the money.”
Finally.
Truth.
Ugly truth was easier to work with than polished lies.
“Why are you talking now?”
“Because I learned yesterday that Thomas never listed me as an investor.”
She slid another document across the desk.
A subscription agreement.
Her signature.
Thomas Bell’s signature.
Fifty-thousand-dollar investment.
Five percent membership interest promised.
But the official company records listed Thomas as sole owner.
“You didn’t verify?”
“I trusted him.”
I almost said the obvious.
Instead:
“And Richard?”
“He invested too.”
“How much?”
“One hundred thousand.”
“Where did he get it?”
Brenda laughed bitterly.
“Now you know why he needed all those fees.”
Elena and I looked at each other.
That linked the money.
Potentially.
Not yet conclusively.
But enough to explain motive.
Richard might have been diverting HOA funds to finance his interest in the acquisition company.
“How much ownership was Richard promised?”
“Twenty percent.”
“Thomas?”
“Twenty-five.”
“That totals fifty.”
Brenda nodded.
“And the rest?”
“The silent partner.”
There it was again.
“Fifty percent?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“I never knew.”
“You invested fifty thousand dollars without knowing who controlled half the company?”
Her cheeks colored.
“When you say it like that, it sounds stupid.”
“It was stupid.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
No defensiveness.
Interesting.
“Did Richard know?”
“He knew more than I did.”
“Who introduced him to Thomas?”
“I thought Martin.”
“Thought?”
“Richard knew Thomas before Martin started helping.”
That was new.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
She hesitated.
“But I heard them arguing once.”
“About?”
“The silent partner.”
“What did they say?”
“Richard said he was tired of being treated like an employee.”
“And Thomas?”
“He said, ‘You are an employee until she says otherwise.’”
She.
Again.
“Anything else?”
Brenda thought.
“Richard said, ‘She doesn’t even live here.’”
My pulse slowed.
Someone with access to Oakridge.
Someone who did not live there.
Someone controlling fifty percent.
I turned toward Elena.
“Property company?”
“Possibly.”
Brenda shook her head.
“I think it’s someone closer.”
“Why?”
“Because she knew things.”
“What things?”
“Resident complaints before they were submitted.”
“Maintenance issues?”
“Yes.”
“Management schedules?”
“Yes.”
“Your board meetings?”
Brenda nodded.
“She sometimes knew what we discussed before Thomas did.”
I leaned back.
Inside access.
Not a resident.
Not Brenda.
Not Richard.
Not Martin.
Who had that level of information?
An employee.
Perhaps someone at Vance Property Management.
Then another thought occurred to me.
“Did the silent partner ever send messages directly?”
“Once.”
“To you?”
“A group email.”
“Do you have it?”
“I deleted the account.”
Elena leaned forward.
“What account?”
“We used private email addresses.”
“Provider?”
Brenda told her.
Elena asked, “Username?”
Brenda gave it.
“Password?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Recovery phone?”
“Old number.”
Elena nodded.
“We may still recover records through proper channels.”
Brenda looked at me.
“There is something I remember.”
“What?”
“The silent partner signed messages with one letter.”
“Which?”
“E.”
My mind immediately produced a list.
Elena Brooks?
Impossible?
Never assume impossible.
My executive assistant, Emma Reed.
Evelyn Shaw in asset management.
Erica Moss in property compliance.
Too many.
Then Brenda added:
“Richard called her Evelyn once.”
My stomach tightened.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m almost sure.”
That reduced the list dramatically.
Evelyn Shaw.
Vice president of strategic acquisitions.
My vice president.
Someone who had worked beside me for seven years.
Someone who had access to every disposition discussion.
Someone who had argued more than once that Oakridge should be sold.
And someone who had attended my father’s funeral.
I said nothing for several seconds.
Elena understood first.
“Maya.”
“I know.”
Brenda looked between us.
“You know her?”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“I know her very well.”
May you like
Evelyn Shaw wasn’t three floors below me like Martin.
Her office was twenty feet from mine.
