Chapter 2
Rocco met Daniel the next morning at Carter Bakery rather than summoning him back to the club.
The bakery occupied the first floor of a narrow brick building fifteen minutes away. Nothing about it looked glamorous. The display case was old, the ovens were older, and one corner of the ceiling showed evidence of a repaired leak.
Maeve sat behind the counter coloring while her father spoke with Rocco.
“You should have told me.”
Daniel gave him a tired look.
“How?”
“You know how to reach my office.”
“I reached the club.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
Daniel looked toward Maeve.
Then lowered his voice.
“Every time I pushed, Dominic said complaining above him would end the contract completely.”
Rocco sat back.
“Did he say my name?”
“Once.”
“What did he say?”
“That you were tired of carrying sentimental vendors.”
Rocco’s jaw tightened.
He had never said that.
Daniel opened a folder.
The unpaid invoices were legitimate.
No disputes had been raised when deliveries arrived.
No pastries had been rejected.
Yet each invoice had later been marked:
PAYMENT HOLD — PERFORMANCE REVIEW.
Rocco noticed something else.
Orders increased after the holds began.
“You supplied more food while he paid you less.”
Daniel gave a humorless laugh.
“I thought the larger orders meant the problem was temporary.”
Instead, the bakery burned through its cash reserves buying ingredients for a customer that was not paying.
Daniel had delayed replacing an oven.
Stopped taking a paycheck some weeks.
Used personal savings.
Maeve was not starving.
But money had become tight enough that every dollar mattered.
That explained the worn sneakers.
It also explained why a four-year-old understood what it meant to give away her last coins.
Rocco left angry.
His accountant, Samuel Price, was waiting at the club with a broader review.
Daniel was not alone.
Five longtime vendors had substantial invoices on hold.
A florist.
A linen company.
A butcher.
A cleaning contractor.
A small wine distributor.
Every one had worked with the club for at least seven years.
Rocco scanned the list.
“How much total?”
“Just under four hundred thousand.”
“Where’s the money?”
“Still here.”
Samuel tapped the club’s operating account.
“That’s what’s strange.”
Dominic had not transferred the unpaid money to himself.
He had not hidden it offshore.
He had not used it for luxury expenses.
He simply refused to release it.
Rocco looked toward the glass wall of Dominic’s former office.
A thief usually wanted money to move.
May you like
Dominic had wanted this money to stay exactly where it was.
That was the first clue that ordinary embezzlement did not explain what he had been doing.
