Chapter 2 - The Audit of Evelyn Mercer
"You think a ruined dress is a crime?" Evelyn snarled, trying to regain her composure, stepping into the aisle to face me. "I built this family! My money paid for your little apartment, your cheap lifestyle, and this entire wedding!"
"Actually," I countered, pulling a folded stack of financial documents from the inner lining of my ruined skirt, "let's talk about whose money we're actually using."
I handed the first sheet to the guest sitting closest to the aisle—the CEO of the city’s largest bank, who also happened to be the primary donor for the Mercer Family Foundation.
"That is a certified bank audit from the Mercer Foundation," I announced. "Over the last five years, $4.2 million intended for underprivileged children's hospitals was transferred into an offshore account in the Cayman Islands under the shell company 'EM Holdings'. Care to guess what 'EM' stands for, Evelyn?"
The banker’s eyes widened as he looked at the document. "Evelyn... these are my signatures on the authorization forms. But I never signed these!"
"Because she forged them," I said directly into the microphone. "Just like she forged her late husband’s signature on the trust amendments three weeks before he passed away. Daniel was supposed to inherit the family estate and the controlling shares of Mercer Enterprises at twenty-five. But Evelyn created a fake medical history, blackmailing Daniel into believing his father left him nothing due to mental instability."
Daniel walked down the steps, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me. He looked at his mother not with anger, but with absolute disgust. "I believed you, Mom. I thought Dad died hating me because of the lies you fed me. But Claire found the original, unaltered trust documents hidden in your safety deposit box."
Evelyn’s face turned from pale to an ugly, mottled purple. "You went into my bank?"
"You left your keys in my apartment when you came to ruin my jewelry, remember?" I smiled coldly. "Forensic accountants notice everything. You thought I was a quiet, submissive charity project. But while you were busy criticizing my dresses, I was auditing your life."
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Right on cue, the heavy oak doors of the chapel opened for the second time. This time, it wasn't a shocked guest. Two uniformed police officers and a man in a sharp grey suit entered.
"Evelyn Mercer?" the man in the grey suit announced, flashing a federal badge. "I’m Agent Vance with the IRS Criminal Investigation Division. We have warrants for your arrest regarding grand larceny, wire fraud, and embezzlement of foundation funds."
