Chapter 5 - THE PRICE OF A NAME
I didn't hide.
I sat in the chair and waited for him to find me.
Derek burst into the office,
his face red and dripping with rain.
He looked desperate,
the bravado of the porch completely gone.
“Give me the papers, Maren.”
I looked at the stack in the output tray.
“Which ones, Derek?”
“The ones that show you were in Philly when the money was moved?”
“Or the ones that show Brooke’s boutique was funded by the vendor accounts?”
He lunged for the printer.
I stood up and blocked him.
“Don’t, Derek.”
“It’s already in the cloud.”
“Mr. Miller has a copy.”
“My lawyer has a copy.”
He stopped,
his chest heaving.
“Why?
Why would you do this to your own brother?”
“You did it to me first, Derek.”
“You let me go to prison for your inventory.”
“You let Dad die thinking his daughter was a thief.”
He looked down at his hands.
“The store was failing, Maren.”
“Dad wouldn't listen.”
“He wouldn't change with the times.”
“Brooke had a good idea.”
“We just needed a little capital.”
“$84,000 isn't a little capital, Derek.”
“It’s a felony.”
“We were going to pay it back!” he shouted.
“We were paying it back!”
“Into a secret account?
While I was in a cell?”
“That’s not restitution.
That’s a bribe to your own conscience.”
I picked up the papers.
“Dad knew, didn't he?”
Derek didn't answer.
“That’s why he had the stroke,” I said,
the realization cutting through me.
“He found the duplicate export.”
“He confronted you.”
Derek’s eyes filled with tears.
“He called me a disgrace.”
“He was going to the police.”
“And then he just...
fell.”
“And you didn't help him.”
“I called the ambulance!”
“After you hid the ledger?”
The chime of the front door rang again.
This time,
it was the police.
I had called them from the walk over.
Lancaster PD.
The same officers who had handcuffed me two years ago.
They walked into the office,
their faces grim.
“Officer Miller,” I said,
addressing the lead cop.
“I believe you have a warrant for Derek Ellis.”
Derek looked at the handcuffs on the officer’s belt.
He looked at me.
“Maren, please.”
“Think of Mom.”
“I am thinking of Mom,” I said.
“I’m thinking of how she’s going to explain her testimony to the DA.”
The officers moved in.
Derek didn't fight.
He was too broken for that.
As they led him out,
he looked back at the store.
“It was a good idea,” he whispered.
“The boutique.”
“It was a stolen idea, Derek,” I said.
“And stolen things never last.”
I watched the patrol car drive away.
May you like
The store was quiet again.
I went back to the house.
