The Deposit Audit Found Where Every Missing Dollar Went

The contract history gave dates, times, and the account used for each change.

My initials had been added to all six site-rights boxes within eleven minutes. The changes came from Travis's sales login.

Nora put that record beside his email from the city.

"Together, these answer two separate questions," she said. "He was warned about the trees. His account supplied the approvals he blamed on you."

"Will the customers see it?"

"They'll get a clear correction and the records that concern their own jobs."

I had wanted my name back almost as much as the mill. Seeing it attached to those six bad promises had felt like finding oil in good sawdust.

We sent the correction through the lawyers. It stated that I had not approved the sites or entered the initials. It included the city confirmation.

June called when she received hers.

"I showed my daughter," she said. "She said to keep every page."

"Fatima would like her."

"I still haven't opened those pickles."

"Keep them cold."

"They were canned, Toby. They can wait longer than I can."

I laughed for the first time that week.

Fatima's audit took another six working days. She asked for bank records, receipts, invoices, and every document Travis claimed would explain the transfers.

He sent a spreadsheet called Growth Costs.

It listed $14,800 for site preparation without a contractor name, an address, or a paid invoice.

Fatima returned it with three questions. Who did the work? Where? Who received the money?

Craig eventually produced the personal bank statement showing the transfer into Travis's account. The money had helped pay off his pickup loan.

The other $7,200 had stayed with him as a sales draw. Our agreement allowed equal draws only after costs and reserves were met. I had received none.

"So all $22,000 went to him," I said.

"Yes," Fatima said. "And his records now prove it."

She gave me copies with the account numbers covered except for the last four digits.

"Customers need answers," she said. "They don't need everyone's banking details."

I put the clean copies in a separate folder. Even then, she made me slow down and do the next small thing properly.

The remaining $7,400 had been kept untouched under the lawyers' agreement. That was everything left from the nine deposits.

No expansion site had been prepared. No new land had been leased. The big future Travis had sold was a set of pictures and a paid-off truck.

Nora asked for a full return of the money and a plan to close Two Banks.

Craig asked whether we could keep the customer issue private.

"Customers need their own records," Nora said. "My client will answer any official request truthfully. Those aren't bargaining items."

The city had asked for the contracts after Ellen's visit. We supplied them. The residents also filed complaints with the consumer office named on their complaint forms. I signed a statement about my initials and gave them the supporting records.

I did not claim to know what any office would decide. I knew what had happened to our money and our names.

While the lawyers worked, I rented two bays in a farm shed outside the city. The owner, Ruth Danner, brought out a broom before she brought out a lease.

"I need this aisle clear," she said. "And no sawdust in the drain."

"Put it in writing."

"Already did."

The rent was $650 a month. I paid it myself and signed as myself. Nora checked that I could store my personal equipment there while Two Banks was being wound down.

I did not take its customer list or book new jobs yet.

Wade came over one afternoon. We cleaned the mill bed, checked the blade tracking, and fitted the new $480 clamp.

"Smells like cedar in here," he said.

My shim lay on the bench.

"That's my level head," I said.

"Mine costs more and works less."

By Friday, Fatima had a final report. Nine deposit receipts, nine refund requests, $7,400 held, $22,000 owed back by Travis.

She also listed the $3,600 unpaid equipment rent, the missing clamp, and the costs I had paid to recover my machines.

She handed me the report without a ribbon or a speech.

"Read every number," she said.

I did. Then I read them again.

That evening Craig sent a settlement offer. Travis would return $11,000 if I released every claim, accepted joint blame for the tree contracts, and let him keep using the Two Banks name.

I called Nora.

"No," I said.

"I thought that might be your answer."

Before she could draft the reply, another message arrived from Craig.

Attached was an amended claim Travis had asked him to file. He still wanted the court to declare my equipment a gift to the company.