Then Gerald stopped typing.
“What is it?” I asked.
He turned the monitor toward me.
A scanned document filled the screen.
At the bottom were two signatures.
Jack Walker.
And Natalie Mercer.
My pulse accelerated.
“What is that?”
“A consulting agreement between Jack’s practice and Cole Strategic Partners.”
“The financial adviser?”
“Yes. Natalie Mercer is identified as the project liaison.”
I read the document twice.
The agreement was dated eleven months earlier.
Four months before Jack claimed the affair had started.
“What type of consulting?”
“Debt restructuring, acquisition planning, and private investment placement.”
“Was she helping him secure the loan?”
“It certainly appears that way.”
The emotional betrayal and the financial deception, which had once seemed like two separate wounds, slowly began to merge into one.
“Maybe the affair began through work,” I said.
“Possibly.”
Gerald opened another document.
“This invoice was paid by the practice to Cole Strategic Partners three months ago.”
The amount was significant.
I leaned back in my chair.
“Jack told me the practice was doing well.”
“It may very well be. Debt doesn’t always indicate failure. Businesses often borrow money to expand.”
“But he tried to use my property without asking.”
“He attempted to.”
“Why?”
“I’m not going to speculate.”
Gerald never filled silence with easy answers. That was one of the reasons my father had trusted him.
My phone rang again.
This time, the screen displayed an unfamiliar number.
I almost ignored it.
Then a message appeared beneath the incoming call.
This is Natalie. Please answer. There is something about the loan you need to know.
I looked at Gerald.
He gave a single nod.
I answered and placed the call on speaker.
“Megan?” Natalie’s voice trembled.
“I’m here.”
“I’m sorry for calling. Jack told me not to contact you.”
“That seems to be one of his habits.”
She inhaled slowly.
“I didn’t know he used your property.”
“You signed the consulting agreement.”
“I coordinated the original restructuring proposal. It was meant to consolidate the practice’s existing debt and bring in two additional partners. Your assets were never supposed to be included.”
“When did that change?”
“I don’t know. I left Cole Strategic four months ago.”
Gerald leaned closer to the phone.
“This is Gerald Price, legal counsel for Megan Walker. Why did you leave?”
A brief silence followed.
“Richard Cole asked me to alter a due-diligence report.”
“How?”
“He wanted me to remove references to missing distributions.”
“What distributions?” I asked.
“Payments from the property company that owns the medical building. Under the operating agreement, Walker Holdings was supposed to receive quarterly distributions whenever the building generated income beyond its required reserve.”
I looked toward Gerald.
His expression had become completely still.
“We haven’t received quarterly distributions,” he said.
“I know,” Natalie answered.
“How much is missing?”
“I couldn’t determine the final amount. That’s why I refused to sign the revised report.”
“Did you tell Jack?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before our relationship began.”
The words settled heavily between us.
“So he knew money was missing from a company that I partly owned.”
“Yes.”
“And instead of telling me, he started a relationship with you.”
Natalie remained silent for a moment.
“He said he was protecting you.”
I closed my eyes.
“From what?”
“He told me the problem started with your father.”
I opened them again.
“My father has been dead for twelve years.”
“I know.”
Gerald shifted slightly in his chair.
“What exactly did Jack tell you?”
“He said there were old obligations connected to the medical building. Informal arrangements. Money your father had promised certain investors before he died.”
“My father documented every agreement he ever made.”
“That’s exactly what I told Jack.”
Gerald shot me a brief glance.
Natalie continued speaking.
“Jack said the original records were incomplete. He believed the missing distributions were being used to satisfy those old obligations.”
“By whom?” Gerald asked.
“Richard Cole.”
The office suddenly felt colder.
I recognized the surname Cole, even though I had insisted earlier that I didn’t.
Not Richard.