Chapter 4 - Monarch
Mom knew the name.
She claimed she didn't know the details.
That distinction lasted about six minutes.
“Monarch Advisory helped Richard get financing.”
“What financing?”
“Short-term.”
“How short?”
She looked toward Claire.
I hated that she was measuring answers.
“Mom.”
“Daily repayment.”
My stomach dropped.
Businesses take short-term advances when banks stop saying yes.
I knew enough to know that.
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
Claire pulled Dad's laptop toward her.
“Then we're going to find out.”
Monarch Advisory wasn't a lender.
It was a brokerage in New Jersey that arranged receivables advances.
Not loans, according to the contracts.
Purchases of future receivables.
That wording mattered to somebody.
To me, the important line was the daily ACH.
$9,840.
Every business day.
I stared.
“How long?”
Mom rubbed her forehead.
“Since January.”
I did the math badly in my head.
Claire did it better.
“That’s almost fifty thousand dollars a week.”
Mom whispered:
“I know.”
“No, you knew there was financing. Did you know this?”
“Not at first.”
“When did you know?”
“April.”
Four months.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father said the hospital contract would pay it off.”
Of course.
Future money again.
Claire scrolled.
There were two Monarch arrangements.
The first for $420,000.
The second for $300,000.
Both expensive.
Both secured by future receivables.
Both personally guaranteed by Dad.
Then I found the problem.
The schedule of customer receivables attached to the second agreement included Hartwell.
Not the $640,000 deposit.
Future invoices.
Invoices that did not yet exist.
I called Rachel back.
She answered.
“You found Monarch.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“First one, yes.”
“Second?”
“No.”
“Your name is on the finance distribution.”
“My email address is.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Richard sent the package after I told him not to.”
I stopped.
She continued.
“I found out three weeks later.”
“Why not tell me?”
“Because by then you had already ordered eighty thousand dollars of additional material.”
“That is not an answer.”
“No.”
She sounded tired.
“I didn't trust you.”
That landed harder than I expected.
“What?”
“You kept forwarding me to Richard.”
“Because he was CEO.”
“And you were twenty percent owner.”
“I ran operations.”
“You also told me every time I raised cash that laying people off was not an option.”
I remembered those conversations.
One in February.
One in April.
“We had contracts.”
“We had revenue.”
Rachel's voice sharpened.
“Revenue is not cash.”
I closed my eyes.
Claire watched me.
Rachel continued.
“You wanted the shop full. Richard wanted nobody to know the company had stopped producing enough cash to support it.”
“So you did what?”
“I tried to slow spending.”
“And when that failed?”
“I started documenting every override.”
That sounded defensive.
Maybe because it was.
I asked:
“Where is the other money?”
“What other money?”
“The one Dad thinks you have.”
Silence.
Then:
“Monarch deposited a third advance Tuesday.”
My whole body tightened.
“How much?”
“Five hundred thousand.”
I stared at Mom.
She looked away.
“Where is it?”
“It hit at 10:12 Tuesday morning.”
“And?”
“By Wednesday afternoon, it was gone.”
“To where?”
“I don't know.”
“You were head of finance.”
“I had resigned Monday.”
“Then how did you know it arrived?”
“Bank alert.”
“You still had access?”
“Read-only until yesterday.”
Claire took the phone from my hand.
“Rachel, did Richard arrange the third advance before you resigned?”
“Yes.”
“Did you approve the receivables package?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Rachel was quiet.
Then:
“That's why I was flying to Charlotte.”
Claire frowned.
“What does Charlotte have to do with Monarch?”
“Hartwell was listed as the primary receivable supporting the advance.”
I understood slowly.
Dad had borrowed against future Hartwell invoices.
But Rachel had already placed Hartwell's deposit into escrow.
The project hadn't even fully started.
Claire said:
“So Monarch advanced half a million dollars based on revenue Carter hadn't earned.”
“Yes.”
“And that money is gone.”
“Yes.”
“Richard thinks you moved it.”
“Yes.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Who could?”
Rachel exhaled.
“Richard.”
Mom stood.
“No.”
All of us looked at her.
She shook her head.
“Richard would not steal from his own company.”
Rachel heard her.
“I didn't say he stole it.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Rachel's voice softened.
“I’m saying Tuesday's money went somewhere before the bank froze the accounts.”
Mom stared.
Rachel continued.
“And Richard left for Charlotte because he believed I knew how to get it back.”
I asked:
“Do you?”
“No.”
May you like
Then:
“But I know who received the wire.”
