Then she discovered invoices from a company called Westbridge Supply Services.
The invoices claimed thousands of dollars in materials had been delivered to properties where the work had barely begun.
Laura visited two sites herself.
She photographed empty rooms.
Spoke to residents.
Checked delivery records.
And returned to the office increasingly troubled.
"Richard," she said one evening, spreading papers across their dining table, "something isn't right."
He looked up from a set of blueprints.
"What?"
"These invoices."
He glanced at them.
"Adrian handles purchasing."
"I know."
"Then ask him."
"I did."
Richard looked toward her.
"And?"
Laura hesitated.
"He told me not to worry."
Richard smiled faintly.
"Sounds like Adrian."
She did not smile back.
"That isn't an answer."
He leaned forward.
"Laura, honey, I'm buried in the new hospital project. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"
She studied him.
For a moment, disappointment crossed her face.
Then she nodded.
"Of course."
Richard returned to his drawings.
He did not understand that his wife had just given him the first warning of a crime developing inside the company they built together.
And he did not understand that his failure to listen would become one of the most painful memories of his life.
Laura continued investigating.
She compared invoices with bank transfers.
Reviewed subcontractor records.
Requested copies of delivery confirmations.
And discovered that Westbridge Supply Services was connected to another company whose ownership was hidden behind layers of paperwork.
Several payments had been approved by Adrian.
Others carried authorization codes assigned to Nicole.
When Laura asked Nicole about them, the younger woman smiled.
"Those accounts are complicated."
Laura looked at her.
"Then explain them."
Nicole's smile tightened.
"I'd have to ask Adrian."
"Please do."
"Of course."
But no explanation arrived.
Instead, Laura began receiving strange warnings.
One afternoon, she returned to her desk and discovered her files had been moved.
Another evening, someone attempted to access a private folder on her computer.
Then Richard began asking unusual questions about a man named Daniel Carter.
Laura stared at him.
"Who?"
"Daniel Carter."
She paused.
"He's an investigator."
Richard's expression hardened.
"An investigator?"
"Yes."
"Why are you meeting him?"
Laura felt a sudden chill.
"Who told you that?"
Richard looked away.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
He folded his arms.
"I hear you've been spending time with a man I know nothing about."
Laura stared.
For several seconds, she seemed unable to believe what he was implying.
Then she said quietly, "Are you accusing me of having an affair?"
Richard did not answer.
That silence hurt more than a spoken accusation.
Laura took one slow breath.
"Daniel is helping me examine the missing funds."
Richard frowned.
"Why didn't you tell me?"