"Just over $31,000 that I can't explain yet."
"Does Kimberly normally handle these accounts?"
"She has access. We both do."
"Did you authorize these advances? Could you have signed something establishing access to the line when it was opened?"
"Yes. That's why I'm not saying she did anything illegal."
Amanda looked up. That was the first moment Roger felt she was evaluating him rather than the paperwork.
"That's a useful distinction."
Roger nodded. "I want to know what happened. Not punish Kimberly. Not destroy Jason. No. What happened?"
Amanda returned to the statements. "Do you have tax returns?"
"Yes."
"Mortgage records?"
"Yes."
"Closing documents from when you purchased the house?"
"Probably."
"Bank statements showing the original down payment?"
Roger thought. "I should."
"How far back?"
"Twelve years."
Amanda raised an eyebrow. Roger almost smiled. "I keep paperwork."
"So I'm noticing."
His phone vibrated. Kimberly again. Roger silenced it. Amanda wrote something.
"How long have you been married?"
"Eleven years."
"Any children?"
"No."
"Business interests?"
"A minority interest through my inspection firm."
"Retirement accounts?"
"Yes."
"Brokerage?"
"Yes."
"Kimberly 401(k)?"
"Some company stock."
Amanda continued making notes. Then she reached the section on real estate.
"Current estimated value of the house?"
"Somewhere around $690,000."
"Mortgage balance?"
Roger gave her the approximate figure. Amanda wrote it down. "Now let's talk about how you acquired it."
Roger paused. That required going further back. Before Kimberly, before the wedding, before the house became theirs in every ordinary sense of the word, Roger's father had owned a small piece of undeveloped land outside Delaware, Ohio.
When his father downsized, part of that property was sold. Roger received a portion of the proceeds before marrying Kimberly. He had used much of it toward the house. His father had insisted on one thing: keep the records.
Roger had wire confirmations, sale documents, deposit records, and the closing statement. At the time, Roger had thought his father's caution excessive. Now Amanda stopped writing.
"How much of the down payment came from those proceeds?"
Roger told her.
"Can you prove the source?"
"I think so."
"Think or know?"
Roger considered the gray accordion folder sitting in his hotel room. "I know."
Amanda nodded. "That matters."
Roger looked through the window toward downtown Columbus. Traffic moved below them as if nothing had happened. Yesterday morning, he had been driving toward Pittsburgh, thinking about concrete fire barriers and inspection deadlines.
Twenty-four hours later, he was discussing the financial anatomy of his marriage with a divorce attorney. Amanda turned to a clean page. "One more thing."
Roger looked back.
"The Worthington property."