Chapter 2 - Andrew Never Stole The Money
Richard stared at the photograph until the ballroom around him seemed to
disappear.
Andrew was older now, his dark hair threaded with gray, but there was no
mistaking Richard’s younger brother.
The date printed beneath the photograph was six days earlier.
Victoria had seen him less than a week ago.
Lily pressed her face into Richard’s jacket while guests whispered
behind them.
Richard looked down at the jagged haircut Victoria had given his
daughter.
The small cut near Lily’s hairline made his hands shake.
He wanted answers, but first he wanted Lily safe.
He handed her to his sister, Claire.
“Take her upstairs. Call Dr. Mason.”
Lily clung tighter.
“Daddy, don’t leave me.”
“I’m not leaving. Aunt Claire is staying right here, and I’ll come
upstairs as soon as the doctor checks you.”
Victoria stepped forward.
“Richard, this is being blown completely out of proportion.”
Richard turned.
“You held scissors to my daughter because she broke a reproduction you
knew was worthless.”
“She was out of control.”
“She’s eight.”
“She needs discipline.”
Richard’s expression went still.
“No. She needed an adult who wouldn’t hurt her.”
Victoria’s confidence finally cracked.
Richard looked at the compartment behind the portrait.
There were bank receipts, photographs, shipping documents, and
handwritten notes.
One receipt showed the $180,000 payment from the original vase.
The money had gone to Ashford Holdings.
Andrew’s old company.
Richard remembered that name too well.
Twelve years earlier, nearly $640,000 disappeared from the family
investment office.
Andrew was blamed.
Their father, Charles Ashford, publicly accused him of stealing it.
Andrew vanished before criminal charges could be filed.
Richard had spent years believing his brother ran because he was guilty.
But one document behind the portrait showed something impossible.
Ashford Holdings had received money three months ago.
A supposedly dead company was active.
Another receipt listed a storage facility outside Boston.
Richard called his head of security.
“Send someone there now.”
Victoria lunged toward the documents.
Richard caught her wrist before she reached them.
“Don’t touch anything.”
“You don’t understand what Andrew did.”
“Then explain.”
Victoria looked around at the guests.
“Not here.”
Richard lowered his voice.
“You lost the right to control where this conversation happens when you
took scissors to my child.”
Victoria’s eyes flashed.
“You think Andrew is innocent because you found one photograph?”
“No.”
Richard lifted a bank statement.
“I think you’ve been lying because you hid evidence inside my house.”
Then the art collector who had identified the fake vase noticed a
handwritten number on the back of a photograph.
It was a bank-account reference.
Richard searched the receipts until he found the same number.
The account did not belong to Andrew.
It belonged to Charles Ashford.
Richard’s dead father.
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And according to the transaction history, someone had used that account
just four days earlier.
