They were routed through authorization codes.”
Lucas stood.
“Whose?”
The accountant looked over his shoulder at the head of security.
Nobody needed the answer spoken aloud.
The man backed up one step.
Lucas said his title rather than his name.
“Head of security.”
The words sounded almost formal.
Almost courteous.
That was worse than shouting.
The man lifted both hands.
“Lucas, listen to me.”
“I am listening.”
“You told us she was gone.”
The sentence changed the room.
Lucas’s attorneys stopped looking at the screen.
“What does that mean?” Lucas asked.
“You walked away from her.
You never called.
Never visited.
Never asked the accountants about the trust.
For years, nothing moved.”
“So you stole it.”
“I moved dormant money.”
The little girl flinched at the sudden edge in Lucas’s voice.
He saw it and lowered his volume.
His security chief continued quickly.
“The organization needed liquidity.
We had properties under pressure, vendors demanding cash, people who had to be paid.
That account was sitting untouched.”
“It belonged to Hannah.”
“She rejected it.”
“Then why were withdrawals disguised?”
No answer.
The accountant zoomed deeper into the transaction history.
“There are certification documents.”
Lucas’s attorney leaned over him.
“What certifications?”
The accountant read silently, then looked at Lucas.
“They state Hannah Bennett consented to release portions of the trust.”
The girl immediately shook her head.
“My mommy didn’t know about any trust.”
Harold shifted uncomfortably behind the counter.
Lucas noticed.
“You knew.”
Harold blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“You knew these releases were happening.”
“Mr.
Rourke, Hancock Meridian processes thousands of private transactions.”
“Not like these.”
One of Lucas’s attorneys pulled a chair toward the terminal and began reviewing the authorization record.
“These were manually approved.”
Harold’s polished expression began to crack.
“Under valid documentation.”
