Chapter 6 - Unit 317
We did not drive to storage facility ourselves.
Samuel contacted investigators.
A preservation request followed.
Eventually law enforcement obtained proper authority based on financial evidence and related allegations.
The search happened two days later.
I was not present.
Probably good.
Inside Unit 317 they found no sacks of cash.
No stolen paintings.
No absurd criminal trophy wall.
They found records.
Boxes.
Lots of them.
Property appraisals.
Blank company checks.
Copies of Dad’s account statements.
Old signature samples.
Loan applications.
And several unopened letters addressed to me.
That last part hurt most.
Letters from Dad.
Months old.
He had been trying to warn me earlier.
Julian intercepted them from Dad’s study before I began managing care full-time.
One envelope dated nine months before death read:
Elena,
I think Julian is using my accounts without understanding how serious this has become. I have not decided whether to confront him privately or involve professionals. I need you to know because he listens to you when pride does not get in the way.
He used to listen to me.
Maybe once.
Another:
If I am wrong, I will apologize to him.
That sentence broke me.
Dad wanted evidence even when suspecting his own son.
He did not begin from certainty.
He began from concern.
Then investigators found something financial.
Approximately $230,000 had been transferred from North Crest into a cashier’s-check purchase.
Where did check go?
Serena’s jewelry purchases accounted for some.
But not all.
A payment of $180,000 went to a woman named Monica Reed.
Nobody in family recognized name.
Julian refused to discuss it.
Serena did.
“I know her.”
Everyone looked at her.
“She worked for Julian.”
“In what capacity?”
Serena swallowed.
“Executive assistant.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Why would she receive $180,000?”
Serena’s face changed.
“I don’t know.”
She did know something.
I could see it.
“What?”
“She left suddenly.”
Julian snapped:
“Stop talking.”
Serena looked at him.
“No.”
For first time she directly defied him.
“She told me she was filing a workplace complaint.”
“What kind?”
Serena’s voice dropped.
“Harassment.”
Julian swore.
Samuel raised hand.
“We do not speculate. We verify.”
Correct.
Monica Reed was located.
She had signed a confidential settlement with one of Julian’s companies two years earlier.
Amount:
$180,000.
The settlement concerned allegations of sexual harassment and retaliation.
It did not contain admission of liability.
Important.
Why did Dad’s money fund it?
Because Julian’s company lacked cash.
He diverted money from Dad’s account to cover settlement.
That was potentially another unauthorized use.
Monica had nothing to do with Dad’s estate.
She was not villain, mistress, secret daughter, or conspirator.
She was a former employee whose claim had been settled.
But her payment exposed another lie.
Julian told Dad the $180,000 transfer was for a property tax investment.
It wasn’t.
Then Serena asked:
“Were you sleeping with her?”
Julian said:
“No.”
Monica later declined to discuss personal details beyond settlement.
Good.
Her privacy did not need to become entertainment.
What mattered was financial misrepresentation.
Then investigators discovered a second storage item.
A red notebook.
Julian’s handwriting.
Lists of amounts.
Dates.
Targets.
Repayment projections.
At bottom of one page:
If Dad forces accounting, blame Elena for access changes.
I read that sentence until letters blurred.
Dad’s plan suddenly made even more sense.
Julian had already planned to accuse me.
The safe confrontation wasn’t revenge.
It was defense prepared in advance.
Then final line on same page:
Raymond will support.
Serena uncertain.
Keep her uninformed.
That line saved Serena from one assumption and created another.
May you like
Julian never considered his wife partner.
He considered her liability.
