I started keeping records. Two weeks later, she announced that she was attending a 5-day business conference in San Francisco. I'll be leaving Monday morning, she said. I probably won't have much time to talk. The schedule is packed.
5 days. It's an industry event. There are meetings afterward. All right. Have a good trip.
She seemed surprised that I didn't argue. On Monday morning, she kissed my cheek, loaded her suitcase into her car, and drove away. By Monday evening, her phone went straight to voicemail. Tuesday passed without a word. On Wednesday morning, I called her office.
Her assistant told me Julia was away, but couldn't confirm which event she was attending. By Wednesday afternoon, I knew something was wrong. I wasn't going to chase my wife around the country, begging her to answer the phone. I was going to find out what she was doing. I made one call to a former colleague who still knew people in the investigative business.
His name was Liam. When he answered, I said, "I need someone discreet, and I need them to start today." He didn't ask questions over the phone. He simply said, "Come see me in an hour." I grabbed my jacket.
For the first time in 24 years, I was about to investigate my own wife, and I had a feeling the money was only the beginning. Liam met me at a small office above an insurance agency in downtown Portland. He had worked as a private investigator for nearly 15 years, and we'd crossed paths on several financial fraud cases before I retired. He closed the office door after I sat down. Tell me what happened.
I explained the silence since Monday, the unexplained transfers, and Julia's sudden business trip. I showed him the bank statements I printed that morning. He studied them without interrupting. Have you confronted her about the account? I asked her about the transfers.
She gave me an answer that didn't make sense. And the disappearance? She's supposed to be at a conference in San Francisco. Her office couldn't confirm where she was. Liam leaned back.
What do you want to know? "Where she went, who she's with, and what she's doing with our money. I want facts, not guesses." He nodded. I'll need her photograph, vehicle details, and whatever information you have about her schedule.
I handed him a recent photograph, and wrote down her license plate number. Before I left, I made one thing clear. Keep it legal. No trespassing, no hacking, no shortcuts. I want evidence that can stand up in court.
Liam gave me a thin smile. That's the only kind worth collecting. By Thursday afternoon, he'd confirmed that Julia had never checked into the hotel where she'd supposedly be staying for the industry event. The event was real. Her attendance wasn't.
That evening, Liam called again. I found her, he said. She's in a coastal town south of San Francisco. She's staying at a hotel with a man named Colin Price. I gripped the edge of my desk.