Chapter 5: The Woman Who Knew Too Much
I stared at Danielle's message until my phone screen dimmed.
Mama had mentioned her before, but I still didn't know why a woman connected to Tasha's events would be contacting me in the middle of the night.
I typed a reply.
What do you know about Derrick Coleman?
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally, Danielle replied.
Not over text. Can you meet me tomorrow morning?
I looked toward the bathroom. The shower was still running.
Where?
She sent an address for a coffee shop near a shopping center in Marietta, about twenty minutes from my house.
9:30 a.m. Please come alone.
I agreed.
Then I saved the messages and put my phone facedown.
I barely slept.
At six, I showered, changed into clean work clothes, and made coffee I didn't drink. Tasha remained in the bedroom with the door locked.
Before leaving, I stood outside the door.
"We need to talk today.""
No answer.
"Tasha?""
Finally, she spoke.
"I'm tired, Marcus.""
"So am I.""
"Then let me sleep.""
I stood there another moment, hoping she'd open the door.
She didn't.
At 9:25, I pulled into the coffee shop parking lot.
Danielle was already sitting at a table near the window. She was in her early forties, with short natural hair and a navy blazer draped over the back of her chair. A leather folder sat beside her coffee.
When she saw me, she stood.
"Marcus?""
"Danielle?""
She nodded and gestured toward the chair opposite her.
"Thank you for coming.""
I sat down.
"Let's get straight to it. Why are you contacting me?""
Danielle looked toward the entrance before answering.
"Because your mother is a good woman, and I don't like seeing good people used.""
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.
"What does that have to do with my wedding savings?""
She opened the folder.
Inside were printed invoices, several screenshots, and a photograph of a computer screen displaying a spreadsheet.
"I've been doing event logistics for Tasha for about a year," she said.
"At first, the work was legitimate. She booked venues, hired vendors, and coordinated promotional events. Some were successful. Others lost money.""
"So she was struggling financially?""
"More than she admitted.""
Danielle slid an invoice across the table.
"This is from an event six weeks ago. The venue deposit was due, but Tasha didn't have enough cash to cover it.""
I examined the document.
The invoice was for $3,100.
"She told me the client had paid," Danielle continued.
"She said the payment was delayed by a processing issue. I believed her because she'd always managed to settle what she owed me before.""
"What happened?""
"The venue threatened to cancel the booking. Tasha asked me to cover the deposit temporarily, promising she'd reimburse me when the client paid.""
I looked up.
"Did you?""
"Yes.""
"And did she pay you back?""
"Partially.""
Danielle opened the folder to another page.
"She sent me $900 two weeks later. Then another $400. After that, she stopped responding to my messages.""
I leaned back.
"Why didn't you report her?""
"I was considering it. But I wanted to understand what had happened to the money first.""
She took a breath.
"Then I saw something on her laptop.""
"What?""
"A transfer confirmation. She'd been moving money from an account labeled 'Wedding Fund' to another account. When I asked her about it, she told me it was a temporary loan from her fiancé.""
My stomach turned.
"She told you I knew?""
Danielle nodded.
"She said you had approved the transfers and that you'd agreed she could use the money to expand her business.""
I stared at the invoice.
"I never approved any of it.""
"I know that now.""
"How?""
"Because last week, I spoke to your mother.""
She explained that she had run into Mama at the supply store. They recognized each other from one of Tasha's events, and Danielle had asked whether Mama had received the money she'd spent on groceries and food preparation.
Mama had told her no.
Danielle said the conversation had made her uneasy.
Then she saw Tasha's laptop open during a meeting and noticed another transfer confirmation.
The recipient was Derrick Coleman.
"Who is he?"" I asked.
Danielle hesitated.
"That's the part I don't fully understand.""
She pulled out a screenshot.
It showed a series of payments to Derrick, along with a message thread in which Tasha discussed an event investment.
I scanned the visible text.
Tasha had written: Once the funds clear, I'll be ready.
Derrick had replied: Good. We need to move before the end of the month.
Another message from Tasha read: Marcus can't know yet.
I felt my chest tighten.
"What is this?""
"Something I saw when Tasha asked me to help organize her event accounts," Danielle said.
"She wanted me to reconcile some invoices. I wasn't trying to spy on her, but when I noticed transfers that didn't match the invoices, I asked questions.""
"And she told you to mind your business.""
"Exactly.""
I looked down at the screenshot again.
"Did you save these?""
"Yes. I kept copies of the invoices and messages relating to payments I handled. I wanted records of what I was owed.""
"Why didn't you come to me sooner?""
Danielle's expression softened.
"Because I didn't know you. And because I wasn't certain what was happening. I didn't want to accuse someone of stealing money based on a few screenshots.""
That answer made sense.
She wasn't presenting herself as a detective who had solved everything. She was a businesswoman trying to protect herself after discovering that someone she trusted might have been lying.
I appreciated that more than I expected.
"Do you know where the money went?"" I asked.
"Some of it covered event deposits. Some paid vendors. But the transfers to Derrick don't match any legitimate invoices I handled.""
"How much?""
She opened her folder to a handwritten list.
"I tracked approximately eighteen thousand six hundred dollars going to his account. I can't account for all of it.""
The same total I'd calculated.
I rubbed my jaw.
"Did Tasha ever mention a twenty-thousand-dollar dress?""
Danielle gave a humorless laugh.
"She told me she'd acquired a luxury gown for an important networking event. She said it was sponsored.""
"Sponsorship?""
"She claimed a designer had loaned it to her in exchange for promotion.""
I stared at her.
"So she lied about the price.""
"Possibly. I can't tell you what she paid for it. I can tell you she never showed me a purchase receipt, and when I asked which designer had sponsored the dress, she changed the subject.""
The pieces were beginning to fit together, but not in a way that gave me relief.
Tasha had lied about the dress.
She had lied about our money.
She had lied to Danielle about my approval.
And she had sent nearly nineteen thousand dollars to a man whose role in her life remained a mystery.
I looked at the screenshot again.
"Can I keep a copy?""
Danielle nodded.
"I brought one for you.""
She slid a small envelope across the table.
Before I could open it, she reached out and touched the edge of the folder.
"Marcus, there's something else.""
I waited.
"About two weeks ago, Tasha asked me to help arrange a private dinner. She said it was for a potential investor. I was supposed to book a restaurant, organize flowers, and arrange transportation.""
"Did she say who the investor was?""
"She said it was Derrick.""
I sat straighter.
"Did you arrange it?""
"I booked the restaurant, but I canceled the other services when the deposit didn't clear.""
"Did the dinner happen?""
Danielle nodded slowly.
"Yes. I saw photographs afterward.""
"Where?""
"On Tasha's social-media account. She deleted them the next morning.""
I took out my phone.
"Do you have the pictures?""
She opened her own phone and searched for a moment.
Then she turned the screen toward me.
The photograph showed Tasha seated at a candlelit table beside a man in a dark suit. His arm rested casually across the back of her chair.
He looked to be in his late thirties, with neatly trimmed hair and a confident smile.
I didn't recognize him.
But I recognized the watch on his wrist.
It was the same expensive watch I'd seen in one of the banking transaction screenshots, listed as a possible purchase under a payment reference.
I enlarged the image.
"Is this Derrick?""
"Yes.""
I stared at the man's face.
Then I noticed the date beneath the photograph.
Two weeks earlier.
The same evening Tasha had told me she was attending a professional networking dinner with a group of women from her industry.
She'd sent me a picture of the restaurant that night.
She hadn't been in the picture.
I looked up at Danielle.
"Did she tell you anything about their relationship?""
Danielle shook her head.
"No. But I heard them arguing after the dinner.""
"About what?""
"Money. Derrick told her he wasn't going to wait forever. Tasha said she'd already done what he'd asked.""
My stomach tightened.
"What did he say?""
Danielle lowered her voice.
"He told her that once the wedding was canceled, everything would be easier.""
For a moment, I couldn't hear the coffee machine or the conversations around us.
Only that sentence.
Once the wedding was canceled.
I stood so quickly that my chair scraped the floor.
Danielle looked up at me.
"Marcus, wait.""
I stopped.
She pulled another document from the folder.
"This is why I asked you to meet me.""
It was a printed email.
The sender was Derrick Coleman.
The recipient was Tasha Williams.
The subject line read: *OUR NEXT STEP.*
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
And by the time I reached the bottom, my hands had started shaking.
May you like
Because Derrick wasn't asking Tasha to cancel the wedding.
He was telling her what to do after it.
