PART 7 — A Conversation With the Man Derek Named
Peter called Maya later that afternoon. He had checked his archived messages and found one more exchange. Derek had asked whether Peter knew anyone who could value a restoration business quickly, without alerting its staff. Peter replied that he did not. Derek followed up with a photograph of Bell Weather’s front entrance.
The photograph showed my work van parked outside. I had been inside that day, meeting with a customer about damaged doors from her grandmother’s house. Derek had told me he was driving to Indianapolis for a conference. Instead, he had stopped by the warehouse to take pictures for a plan he had not shared.
Maya invited Peter to speak with us by video. He agreed because he wanted to correct Derek’s use of his name. I sat at her conference table with a notebook. Peter appeared from an ordinary office lined with sample binders. He remembered Derek as ambitious and good with clients, though impatient when a project slowed down.
Peter explained that a former coworker had introduced Derek to a speculative property venture. He knew little about it except that the group charged substantial fees before buying any property. Derek had asked Peter to join. Peter reviewed the materials and declined. By the time Derek approached him again, several investors were asking for refunds.
“Was the venture called Northbridge Commercial Fund?” I asked. Peter nodded. That was the name Derek had given me. It had existed, then, although the company in the public filing used a different address. Peter said the group changed names and managers twice within a year. He forwarded the materials he had kept.
Those materials helped explain where some money went. Derek had paid participation fees and advanced funds toward properties the group never purchased. Whether the losses came from misconduct, poor judgment, or both would take more records to determine. Peter did know that Derek continued seeking investors after Peter warned him.
I thanked him. Before ending the call, Peter said, “Clara, he told me you were considering selling the company.” I said I was not. Peter looked pained. “That’s why I asked for the valuation information. He made it sound like you were both working toward the same decision.” I wrote down his exact words.
Maya sent a records request to Northbridge’s registered agent. She also wrote to Derek, asking for the complete loan files and any document on which he had represented himself as Bell Weather’s owner. I knew he might refuse. The letter gave him a chance to explain before we drew conclusions from scattered copies.
Meanwhile, Leon sent Maya the lender’s transaction history with Derek’s written consent. He had apparently decided cooperation might reduce the damage. The records showed how the balance had grown through extensions and fees. They also showed that Judith had personally guaranteed eighty thousand dollars of the debt in June.
She had presented herself as a worried mother making calls on her son’s behalf. She was financially exposed herself. When I remembered her insisting we open the safe, I could understand her urgency without excusing the forged forms. She had placed her own money at risk and then treated my company as the easiest way out.
The guarantee led Maya to a second document. Judith had listed an expected payment from Dad’s estate as an asset. Dad had left her nothing, and his will had never suggested he would. She might have believed Derek’s claims about the safe. Or she might have hoped that enough pressure would make me hand over what Dad left.
That evening, Derek asked to meet at a quiet café. Maya thought it was reasonable if I chose the location, brought Celia, and did not sign anything. I had questions no statement could answer. Celia took a table across the room while I sat opposite my husband beneath a row of dim pendant lights.
Derek looked thinner than he had on the night of the safe. He kept turning his paper cup between his palms. He said Northbridge had misled him and that he intended to pursue the people who took the money. I asked why he had told Peter I was selling Bell Weather. He said he had wanted to test what the company might be worth.
“Why tell him I agreed?” I asked. “Because you wouldn’t have helped me find out.” I waited. Derek rubbed the rim of his cup. “I thought if the numbers were good, you might see a way forward. I kept making decisions because I was ashamed of the ones before them.” His explanation answered part of the question, but not why he had copied my signature.
He said the forged authorization was a draft Judith had made from a template. He claimed it was never sent. I asked whether she had copied the signature or he had. Derek stared at his cup and said he had scanned an insurance form. “That was wrong,” he said. “I told her we couldn’t use it.”
I thought of Dad finding that form in his house. “You let Dad believe Judith did it?” Derek shook his head. “He knew I was involved.” He admitted he had argued with Dad after the home equity inquiry. Dad had told him to come clean with me. Derek had promised to do it and then waited, hoping Northbridge would return the funds.
He reached across the table. I moved my hands into my lap. “I’m giving Leon the remaining ninety thousand,” he said. “I’ve listed my car, and I’m speaking to a lawyer about Northbridge.” Those steps were real if he followed through. They could not undo what he had tried to make me sign.
Before we left, I asked whether he had any other documents bearing my name. He said no. Celia drove home behind me, and I wanted to believe his answer. At nine, Maya forwarded a document Leon had discovered during his review: a draft letter appointing Derek interim manager of Bell Weather if I became unable to run it.
The letter said I was struggling after Dad’s death. It carried no signature, but its details echoed Judith’s remarks about my forgetfulness. Across the top, someone had typed a date three weeks before Dad died. I read it in Celia’s kitchen while the kettle warmed. Derek had promised he had shown me everything.
END PART 7
