Maybe breaking something.
Maybe daring the president to challenge me.
But none of that would have helped my daughter.
None of it would have established what happened to the charity money.
And none of it would have made me a better grandfather.
I took a breath.
"Let's get the records to someone who knows how to examine them."
My friend nodded.
Then looked toward the blue star.
For a moment, he became emotional.
"She really made that when she was nine?"
I nodded.
"Yeah."
He swallowed.
"I remember."
I looked toward him.
He continued.
"She was so proud of it."
My eyes filled.
My friend placed one hand against my shoulder.
Then whispered, "We should've listened to her."
I nodded.
"Yes."
And for the first time, I didn't try to add an explanation.
I simply accepted the truth.
The independent financial review took nearly seven weeks.
At first, I hated that.
I'd spent years solving mechanical problems by working until something finally gave way.
I was accustomed to immediate results.
If a motorcycle wouldn't start, I tested components.
If a bearing failed, I replaced it.
And if somebody tried to cheat a customer, I confronted them.
But financial records weren't a motorcycle engine.
The truth couldn't be forced into place by impatience.
The charity's governing organization appointed an outside accounting firm to examine the available materials.
The reviewers requested archived records.
Bank statements.
Payment authorizations.
Vendor information.
And communications concerning the disputed transactions.
Some documents were missing.
Others had been retained only as copies.
And several financial records from nine years earlier were difficult to obtain through normal channels.
But my daughter had preserved a remarkable amount of information.
Her spreadsheets included the original transaction references.
Her correspondence documented unanswered questions.
And the authorization suspension notice showed that certain payments attributed to her occurred after her access had been removed.
The reviewers also located records establishing that a vendor used in several suspicious transactions had connections to individuals associated with the former treasurer.
None of those findings made every question disappear.
But the central accusation against my daughter became increasingly difficult to support.
Then a former club administrative volunteer came forward.
She was a retired bookkeeper in her seventies.
Nine years earlier, she'd helped organize fundraiser receipts before leaving the club after disagreements with its leadership.
She contacted the accounting firm after hearing about the review.