I stared at Melissa’s message until the words blurred together.
THERE ARE THINGS GRANT HASN'T TOLD YOU.
AND SOME OF THE MONEY DIDN'T GO WHERE HE SAID IT DID.
Tessa stood beside me, reading the screen again.
“You need to find out what she knows.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to call her?”
I looked at the time. It was just after seven in the morning. Grant had already called nine times, and the three messages from Denise were probably waiting for me too.
“I want her to explain.”
“Then call.”
I pressed the number.
Melissa answered before the second ring.
“Thank you.”
Her voice sounded tired rather than triumphant.
“You said some of the money didn't go where Grant told me.”
“I did.”
“Then tell me where it went.”
There was a pause.
“Not over the phone.”
I closed my eyes.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“I know how this sounds.”
“Then make it simple.”
“I can meet you somewhere public.”
Tessa shook her head.
“Not alone,” she mouthed.
I nodded.
“Where?”
“There's a coffee shop near my office. Ten minutes from your sister-in-law's house.”
“Tessa's house?”
Melissa hesitated.
“You're with Tessa?”
“Yes.”
“That’s probably better.”
“Thirty minutes.”
“I'll be there.”
She hung up.
Tessa looked at me.
“You want me to come?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Neither of us said anything for several seconds.
Then my phone began ringing again.
Grant.
I let it ring.
When it stopped, a message appeared.
PLEASE DON'T TALK TO MELISSA.
I showed Tessa.
She gave a humorless laugh.
“He knows.”
“That’s what I'm afraid of.”
Another message arrived.
SHE'S TRYING TO DESTROY EVERYTHING.
I stared at those words.
Then I typed a reply.
IF THERE'S NOTHING TO HIDE, YOU HAVE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT.
I didn't wait for an answer.
At the coffee shop, Melissa was already sitting near the back window.
I recognized her immediately from an old company photograph Grant had once shown me. She looked younger than I expected, with dark hair pulled into a loose knot and a gray coat folded across the chair beside her.
She stood when we approached.
“I'm Melissa.”
“I know.”
Her eyes flicked toward Tessa.
“Thank you for coming.”
We sat.
For a few seconds, none of us touched our coffee.
Melissa folded her hands on the table.
“I should have contacted you months ago.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Because I thought Grant would fix it.”
“Fix what?”
She looked down.
“The investment.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“You invested too?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“My brother did.”
“Evan.”
“Yes.”
Melissa swallowed.
“Evan owns the sports bar development company. Grant approached him last year.”
“Grant said you introduced them.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because Grant kept talking about wanting to invest in something of his own.”
I almost interrupted, but she continued.
“He said he was tired of being dependent on his salary. He wanted another income stream.”
“He wasn't dependent on his salary.”
“I didn't know that.”
“He told you I didn't contribute.”
Melissa's expression changed.
“Yes.”
The answer was quiet.
“How much did he tell you?”
“Too much.”
Tessa leaned forward.
“Be specific.”
Melissa nodded.
“He said you spent excessively. He said you were difficult about money. He said he was constantly covering household expenses.”
My throat tightened.
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“I saw the bank statements.”
I looked at her.
“What bank statements?”
“The ones he sent me.”
“Why did he send you our bank statements?”
“He said he needed advice.”
Tessa's face hardened.
“He sent our private financial records to you?”
“Yes.”
I sat back.
The betrayal felt different this time.
Not because Melissa had received them.
Because Grant had deliberately opened a private part of our marriage to someone else.
“Why?”
“He wanted me to help him qualify for a second business loan.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He had too much debt.”
I looked at Tessa.
She whispered, “Of course.”
Melissa reached into her handbag.
“I brought copies.”
She placed a small folder on the table.
My hands stayed in my lap.
“What are those?”
“Documents Grant sent me.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew eventually you'd need to see them.”
I opened the folder.
The first page was a loan application.
Grant's name.
His signature.
His income.
His debts.
Then another page.
A transfer confirmation.
My eyes stopped.
The amount was $8,500.
The destination account wasn't ours.
I looked at Melissa.
“What is this?”
“That was supposed to be part of the investment.”
“Grant told me fifteen thousand came from our savings.”
“It did.”
“Then why is there another eight thousand five hundred?”
Melissa looked uncomfortable.
“Because the fifteen thousand wasn't the first payment.”
I turned another page.
There were more transfers.
Five thousand.
Three thousand.
Four thousand.
The dates stretched across several months.
Tessa leaned over.
“This is more than twenty-five thousand.”
Melissa nodded.
“Yes.”
I felt the room become strangely quiet.
“How much did Grant put into Evan's project?”
“I don't know the final amount.”
“You must have an estimate.”
“About forty-two thousand.”
My mouth went dry.
“Forty-two?”
“Yes.”
“And how much did he get back?”
“Nothing.”
Tessa stared at her.
“Nothing?”
“The project was never completed.”
“Why?”
“Funding problems.”
I looked down at the documents.
Then I noticed a handwritten note beside one transfer.
ADVANCE — M.
I pointed at it.
“What does M mean?”
Melissa didn't answer.
“Melissa.”
She finally said, “Me.”
I looked up.
“You received money from Grant?”
“No.”
“But it says advance.”
“It was supposed to be.”
“For what?”
She looked toward the window.
Then back at me.
“For a separate project.”
“What project?”
She hesitated.
“Grant wanted me to leave my company.”
Tessa frowned.
“Why?”
Melissa's voice dropped.
“He offered me a job managing the new business.”
I stared at her.
The room seemed colder.
“So you and Grant were planning to work together.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After the sports bar opened.”
“And you knew about the investment.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the debt.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was using our savings.”
“I knew he was using money he said was available.”
I shook my head.
“He lied to you too.”
“Yes.”
Melissa looked directly at me.
“I didn't know how much until later.”
“What changed?”
“Evan called me.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“What did he say?”
“He said Grant had stopped answering him.”
I remembered Grant's panic.
“Why?”
“Because Evan was demanding repayment.”
“Repayment of what?”
“Money that had been transferred into another account.”
I looked at the papers.
“Whose account?”
Melissa looked at me.
“Grant's.”
I felt my pulse jump.
“You said some of the money didn't go where he told me.”
“Yes.”
“Where did it go?”
She took a breath.
“Some went to his credit cards. Some went to the investment. Some went to another account.”
“What account?”
“An account at First National.”
I looked at Tessa.
“Do you know about that?”
She shook her head.
“Did Grant tell you the account belonged to him?”
“Yes.”
“Was it a business account?”
“No.”
“Then what was it?”
Melissa lowered her voice.
“His personal account.”
I stared at her.
“How much?”
“Last time I saw the statement, around eleven thousand dollars.”
I couldn't speak.
Tessa reached across the table and squeezed my wrist.
“Did he withdraw it?”
Melissa nodded.
“Most of it.”
“When?”
“Over the past two months.”
I looked down at the documents again.
The pattern was finally visible.
He hadn't simply made one terrible investment.
He had moved money repeatedly, shifting amounts between accounts whenever one became difficult to explain.
I asked, “Why are you helping me now?”
Melissa looked down.
“Because I realized I had been helping him hide things.”
The honesty in her voice made me pause.
“I should have told you sooner.”
“Yes.”
“I was scared.”
“Of him?”
“Of losing my job. Of what Evan would do. Of how complicated it would become.”
Tessa asked, “Did Grant ever threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did he ever tell you that Laurel would never find out?”
Melissa nodded.
“He said you trusted him completely.”
My eyes burned.
Melissa continued.
“He said you'd never question the numbers because you didn't like dealing with finances.”
That hurt.
Not because it was true.
Because Grant had counted on it.
I closed the folder.
“Does Evan have more documents?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see them?”
“He'll want to meet you.”
“Where?”
“His office.”
Tessa shook her head.
“Not until we know what we're walking into.”
Melissa nodded.
“That’s fair.”
My phone buzzed.
Grant again.
This time, the message was different.
DAD KNOWS.
I stared at it.
Then another arrived.
HE'S COMING TO TESSA'S.
Tessa looked at me.
“What?”
I handed her the phone.
She stood immediately.
“My father is coming here?”
I nodded.
Melissa looked worried.
“Maybe that's why Grant is panicking.”
A third message appeared.
PLEASE DON'T LET HIM SEE THE PAPERS.
I slowly placed the phone on the table.
For the first time since leaving my house, I wasn't wondering whether Grant had lied.
I was wondering how much of our marriage had been built around lies that other people had been expected to protect.
Then a car stopped outside Tessa's house.
Tessa looked through the window.
“That's Dad.”
I picked up the folder.
The doorbell rang.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: Grant’s Father Arrived With a Question About the Mortgage, but His Answer Revealed Another Debt Nobody Had Known Existed
Three Weeks After One Cruel Sentence, My Husband Invited His Entire Family to Dinner and Assumed I Would Quietly Save His Birthday Again
Part 5 of 20
