Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Knew Too Much|
I called Sonia Alvarez six times after receiving the photograph.
She didn't answer once.
By the seventh call, her voicemail was full.
I stared at the words Destroy before annual audit until the letters seemed to blur.
Somebody had known the scholarship records were fraudulent.
Somebody had deliberately hidden the evidence.
And whoever had written that instruction might already know Sonia had contacted me.
I forwarded the photograph to Detective Torres.
Then I called Roman Bellini.
He answered on the second ring.
"Grace?"
"Sonia Alvarez has disappeared."
"What do you mean?"
"She called me this morning about the scholarship payments, and now she won't answer."
I heard movement on his end.
"Did she send you anything?"
"Yes."
I explained the photograph.
When I finished, Roman was silent.
Then he said, "Don't send it to anyone else until the detective advises you."
"I've already sent it to Detective Torres."
"Good."
I looked toward Lily, who was sitting on the carpet, repairing the ribbon on her blue dance dress.
"Mr. Bellini, how well do you know your brother?"
Roman didn't answer immediately.
"We grew up together."
"That's not what I asked."
His breathing changed.
"No," he said quietly.
"It isn't."
For the first time, I wondered whether Roman was frightened by what Matteo had done, or by what investigating Matteo might uncover.
A knock interrupted us.
My neighbor, June Parker, stood outside holding a casserole dish.
June was sixty-eight, a retired school secretary, and the closest thing Lily had to a grandmother.
She took one look at my face.
"Who needs feeding, and who needs talking to?"
I almost cried.
"Probably both."
June set the casserole on the counter.
Then she noticed the papers beside my phone.
"Is this about the gala?"
I nodded.
She sighed.
"I saw a video of Lily dancing."
My heart sank.
The last thing I wanted was my daughter becoming entertainment for strangers.
But June smiled.
"She was magnificent."
Then her expression hardened.
"I also saw what that Bellini man called her."
Someone had recorded Matteo's insult.
The video had spread overnight.
People were praising Lily's performance and condemning the foundation, but others were accusing me of using my daughter to embarrass a wealthy family.
One comment said I should have been grateful my child had been invited at all.
Another called me an opportunist.
I turned the screen off.
"She's ten years old, June."
"I know, honey."
"She shouldn't have to become famous just to be treated fairly."
June reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
"Then you make sure this stays about the adults who failed her."
Later that afternoon, Roman called again.
"Grace, would you be willing to meet with the foundation's board chair?"
I frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I've requested an independent audit, and the board wants to hear directly from a parent whose scholarship was reported as paid."
"Will Matteo be there?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll come."
Roman sounded surprised.
"You're certain?"
I looked at Lily's shoes.
"Your brother has already made me afraid of losing my job."
I swallowed.
"I'm not giving him the rest of my courage."
The meeting took place at six o'clock inside the foundation's downtown office.
I wore my only gray blazer.
It was six years old, and one sleeve had been repaired twice.
But I walked into that boardroom with my shoulders straight.
Matteo sat beside a silver-haired woman named Evelyn Shaw, the foundation's board chair.
He looked completely relaxed.
"Grace," he greeted me.
"What an unexpected pleasure."
I ignored him.
Evelyn offered me a chair.
"We understand there has been a misunderstanding about your daughter's grant."
I placed the forged check on the table.
"This isn't a misunderstanding."
Matteo smiled.
"That's precisely what investigators will determine."
I looked at Evelyn.
"Does the foundation normally approve payments using signatures taken from employment forms?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"Certainly not."
"Then somebody should explain how my name ended up on money I never received."
Nobody answered.
I continued.
"My daughter practiced in shoes I repaired with thread because I couldn't afford new ones."
My voice trembled, but I kept speaking.
"She believed this foundation existed to help children like her."
I looked directly at Matteo.
"Instead, somebody used her name to take money that belonged to her."
Matteo leaned forward.
"You're making accusations you can't prove."
Roman, sitting at the far end of the table, spoke for the first time.
"She's reporting what happened to her."
Evelyn cleared her throat.
"We have retained an independent forensic accounting firm."
Matteo's smile disappeared.
"You had no authority to do that without consulting the executive committee."
"The board voted this afternoon," Evelyn replied.
"Unanimously, with your recusal requested because your approvals are under review."
For a moment, Matteo looked genuinely shocked.
Then he laughed.
"You think outsiders will understand how this foundation operates?"
Evelyn folded her hands.
"They will understand the bank records."
I watched Matteo's face.
His eyes flickered toward the door.
It lasted less than a second.
But I noticed.
Because I'd seen that look before.
It was the expression people wore when the truth was closer than they expected.
After the meeting, Roman walked me to the elevator.
"My mother used to teach music lessons in a church basement," he said unexpectedly.
I turned toward him.
"Your mother?"
"Before she married my father."
He looked down at his hands.
"She believed talented children shouldn't need wealthy parents to be heard."
I studied his face.
"Then your foundation has forgotten what she believed."
Roman nodded slowly.
"Yes."
The elevator arrived.
Before stepping inside, I asked one more question.
"Have you heard from Sonia Alvarez?"
His expression changed.
"No."
My phone vibrated.
A message appeared from an unfamiliar number.
This is Sonia.
They know I copied the ledger.
I can't go home.
And Grace, please don't let Matteo find the second file.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
There was a second file.
And somebody was desperate to make sure we never saw it.
