“No.”
She took a breath.
“There are four besides me.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“Two men I don’t know. A small investment company.”
She paused.
“And a woman.”
I closed my eyes.
“Another girlfriend?”
“I don’t know.”
“Name?”
“Elise Vaughn.”
The name meant nothing to me.
“Have you heard of her?”
“No.”
“She invested ninety thousand.”
I opened my laptop.
“Do you have documents?”
“I’m sending them.”
The email arrived.
Elise Vaughn.
Atlanta address.
Investment date four months earlier.
I searched her name.
The first result showed a corporate consultant.
The second showed a photograph.
She was blonde, polished, probably around forty.
The third result made my stomach drop.
A social media post.
Julian stood beside her at a commercial real estate conference in Atlanta.
His hand rested lightly at the small of her back.
The caption was professional.
But the familiarity in the photograph wasn’t.
I sent it to Sabrina.
She called me immediately.
“Oh my God.”
“I know.”
“Do you think—”
“Yes.”
She went silent.
Then she said, “I’m going to message her.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t know what she knows.”
“Camille.”
“Let the attorney look first.”
Sabrina exhaled.
“You’re better at this than I am.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m just finally tired enough to stop reacting.”
That evening, Rebecca called.
“Elise Vaughn is not an investor.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“At least not personally.”
“But her name is on the documents.”
“The address belongs to a holding company.”
“Okay.”
“She’s the controller.”
“So she invested through a company?”
“Yes.”
“Is that bad?”
“Not by itself.”
“But?”
Rebecca paused.
“The holding company received money from Harbor Ridge two weeks after Elise supposedly invested.”
I sat straighter.
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
My heart pounded.
“Two hundred?”
“Yes.”
“So she put in ninety and got two hundred?”
“Not exactly. Different description.”
“What description?”
“Consulting and acquisition services.”
I stared at the wall.
“Is she working with Julian?”
“Possibly.”
“On what?”
“That’s what we need to determine.”
The next day, Elise Vaughn contacted me.
Not through Sabrina.
Through Rebecca.
She wanted to speak.
Rebecca insisted on being present.
We arranged a video call.
Elise appeared on screen from what looked like an office.
She was composed.
Too composed.
“Mrs. Arden.”
“Camille.”
She nodded.
“Camille.”
Rebecca sat beside me.
Elise continued.
“I learned this morning that you were not divorced from Julian.”
I stared.
“You too?”
Her mouth tightened.
“Not romantically.”
That surprised me.
“Then what did he tell you?”
“That you were separated and that he had authority to act on certain marital assets.”
My stomach turned.
“Why would that matter to you?”
“Because my company provided short-term capital and consulting support for Harbor Ridge.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Ms. Vaughn, are you represented by counsel?”
“Yes.”
“And your counsel knows about this call?”
“Yes.”
“Then please continue carefully.”
Elise nodded.
“Julian approached us nine months ago.”
My heartbeat increased.
Nine months.
Long before Sabrina.
“He had a concept involving distressed commercial acquisitions along the Georgia coast.”
“That sounds like Julian.”
“He also represented that he had access to collateral.”
“My property.”
“I didn’t know it was solely yours.”
I stared at her.
“What did he show you?”
“An authorization agreement.”
Rebecca asked, “Signed by Camille?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“Please send it through counsel.”
Elise nodded.
I felt cold.
“How much money did your company give Julian?”
“One hundred fifty thousand initially.”
“And the two hundred thousand Harbor Ridge paid you?”
“That was repayment plus fees on a different bridge arrangement.”
I tried to follow.
“So Harbor Ridge owes your company?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Approximately three hundred twenty thousand.”
My mouth went dry.
Julian had never mentioned debt anywhere close to that.
Elise continued.
“There’s something else.”
Of course there was.
“There was supposed to be a capital event this month.”
“What does that mean?”
“Julian planned to refinance or liquidate certain assets to close out short-term obligations.”
I looked at Rebecca.
Then back at Elise.
“What assets?”
Elise hesitated.
“Your Savannah residence was listed in a projected financing schedule.”
For one second, I could not hear anything.
“Our house?”
