Chapter 8 - The Audit Trail
Tuesday morning arrived with a cold, gray drizzle that slicked the asphalt outside the federal courthouse downtown.
While the media trucks parked outside the iron gates were focused on the high-profile white-collar embezzlement case involving Apex Heavy Equipment Solutions, I sat at my desk on the fourth floor of the DOJ compliance division, reviewing a fresh stack of digital ledgers.
My wrist was fully healed. The athletic tape was gone.
Division Chief Vance walked past my cubicle, paused, and tapped his knuckles twice on the glass partition.
"Good work on the Horizon file, Ellison," Vance said, his tone brisk and approving. "The preliminary hearing for Trent Miller is set for 10:00 AM. Word is his defense counsel is trying to argue that he was just a minor distributor in a larger regional ring."
"He was," I said without looking up from my screen. "The main supplier is still operating out of Norfolk under three different shell companies. I’ve already flagged their routing numbers."
Vance smiled faintly. "You never stop auditing, do you?"
"The engine only runs right when you keep an eye on the pressure," I replied.
He nodded and walked down the corridor toward the briefing room.
My phone buzzed on the corner of the desk. It was a text message from an unknown number—or rather, a number I hadn't expected to see on my secure work line.
“Mara. It’s Paige. I’m at the courthouse. Trent’s lawyer says we don’t have a prayer unless I can find someone to vouch for his character. Can you... can you just tell them it was all a misunderstanding? Please. For family.”
I stared at the screen for ten seconds.
For five years, that single word—family—had been used as a weapon to keep me silent, to make me swallow insults, to make me accept being treated like an invisible servant while I quietly bailed them out of financial ruin.
I tapped out my reply with calm, deliberate keystrokes:
May you like
“I told you the truth on Monday, Paige. The engine starts when you stop lying about who's doing the work. Good luck.”
I locked my phone, tossed it onto the desk, and turned back to the digital ledger.
