Chapter 3 - THE AUDIT
By eight o'clock the following morning, the storm had cleared, leaving behind a cold, blinding sunlight that reflected off the mud-soaked roads. I sat in a private consultation room on the third floor of the county courthouse, surrounded by cardboard banker's boxes, stack after stack of printed financial ledgers, and a steaming cup of dark black coffee.
Beside me sat Assistant District Attorney Marcus Cole—a sharp, thirty-something prosecutor with dark skin, wire-rimmed glasses, and a reputation for being ruthless against corrupt public officials.
"This is comprehensive, Claire," Marcus said, flipping through a three-hundred-page audit report I had spent the last four hours compiling using my state database access. "You're saying he’s been skimming her state care stipends for over three years?"
"Not just skimming, Marcus. Full-scale systematic conversion," I said, tapping my pencil against a bank statement spread across the oak table. "Maya receives three distinct streams of funding: state Medicaid waiver funds for home care, a federal Supplemental Security Income check, and a private annuity left in trust by our late father."
I pulled three highlighted documents from the top folder.
"Daniel registered himself as her sole representative payee through a shell management company he registered in Delaware: Apex Care Solutions LLC. Every month, four thousand five hundred dollars from the state and fifteen hundred dollars from her federal annuity are deposited directly into an account controlled exclusively by Daniel and my mother."
"Is there any record of that money being spent on Maya’s actual care?" Marcus asked, leaning closer.
"None," I said coldly. "Maya’s physical therapy sessions were canceled fourteen months ago due to 'non-payment.' Her specialized wheelchair—which broke down last winter—was never repaired or replaced. She’s been using a ten-year-old manual chair that causes micro-tears in her shoulder tendons."
I slid a series of glossy photographs across the table. They showed the line items from Daniel’s primary credit card statements over the past twenty-four months: luxury resort stays in Cabo, online gambling accounts, high-end golf equipment, and monthly payments for a brand-new, six-cylinder sports car registered under Daniel’s name.
"He was using her disability funds as his personal trust fund," Marcus murmured, his face hardening as he examined the credit card entries. "And your mother?"
"Evelyn is listed as a co-signatory on the shell corporation’s checking account," I said, my voice hardening. "She signed off on thirty-six consecutive monthly care logs certifying that Maya was receiving twenty-four-hour specialized nursing support, physical rehabilitation, and transportation services. Every single signature was a felony perjury statement submitted to the State Department of Human Services."
Marcus leaned back in his leather chair, touching his chin thoughtfully. "Physical assault on a vulnerable adult carries a maximum of seven years in state prison. But if we couple the assault with Class-B Felony Medicaid Fraud, Identity Theft, and Deprivation of Rights for a Person with Disabilities... Daniel is looking at twenty to twenty-five years mandatory federal and state time."
"And asset forfeiture," I added sharply. "Every penny held in that shell company account, the sports car, and his equity claim on my mother's estate must be seized immediately to satisfy restitution for Maya."
The door to the consultation room swung open, and Deputy Vance stepped inside, holding an official police folder.
"Claire," Vance said, looking grim. "Daniel and your mother just arrived at the courthouse with an attorney. They’re downstairs in the clerk's office trying to file an emergency injunction to revoke your healthcare proxy and demand custody of Maya."
I stood up slowly, smoothing down the lapels of my dark blazer. "Who is their attorney?"
"Richard Sterling," Vance replied.
May you like
I let out a dry, humorless laugh. Sterling was a high-priced local criminal defense lawyer known for representing wealthy drunk drivers and corporate embezzlers. Daniel had used Maya’s own stolen annuity money to retain him.
"Let's go downstairs," I told Marcus, grabbing my briefcase. "It's time to show Daniel what a real state audit looks like."
