Chapter 3 - The Audit of the Family Empire
By Monday morning, the fallout from the New Year’s Eve arrest erupted across Chicago’s financial and legal circles.
Charles Brooks’s mugshot—showing his disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, and rumpled suit—was published on the front page of the Chicago Business Journal.
FINANCIER CHARLES BROOKS ARRESTED IN PENTHOUSE ASSAULT ON ARMY CAPTAIN DAUGHTER-IN-LAW.
I sat in the high-walled conference room of Vance & Sterling Law Offices on Michigan Avenue. Beside me sat Major Sterling and my primary civilian divorce attorney, Evelyn Vance.
Across the broad glass table sat Ryan and his court-appointed defense attorney, a stressed-out man who looked like he hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. Charles was currently being held at the Cook County Jail after a judge set his bail at $500,000, citing his flight risk and the severe nature of the felony charges.
"My client is prepared to sign a full, uncontested divorce settlement," Ryan’s attorney began, sliding a thin folder across the glass table. "In exchange, Captain Brooks will drop the secondary civil damages claims and request that the State Attorney’s Office drop the felony conspiracy charges against Ryan."
Evelyn Vance didn't even touch the folder. She pushed it back across the table with her index finger.
"Your client doesn't understand his position, counselor," Evelyn said smoothly. "Captain Brooks isn't here to negotiate a settlement. She's here to inform you of the forensic audit findings."
Ryan frowned, looking at me. "What audit? Elena, we don't have secrets. I gave you full access to our joint checking account!"
"We didn't audit the joint checking account, Ryan," I said, opening my briefcase and pulling out three thick stacks of bank statements and corporate tax returns. "We audited the 'Brooks Family Logistics LLC' account—the entity your father used to run his commercial shipping business."
Ryan went pale. "That's... that's my father's business. You have no right to look at those records!"
"As an active-duty military logistics officer," Major Sterling interjected, "Captain Brooks identified multiple cross-border transactions routed through government sub-contractor accounts. Three years ago, Charles Brooks used Ryan’s name to set up a shell company in Delaware to invoice the Department of Defense for shipping services that were never rendered."
The room went completely, suffocatingly quiet.
Ryan’s attorney slowly turned his head to look at his client. "Ryan... what is he talking about?"
"They stolen over $420,000 from federal military contracts," I said, looking Ryan dead in the eye. "And Charles used my signature stamp—which Ryan stole from my home office desk six months ago—to authorize the corporate verification forms."
Ryan sank into his leather chair, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "I... I didn't know! Dad said it was just standard tax optimization! He said everyone did it!"
"Your father used you as a fall guy, Ryan," Evelyn Vance said cleanly. "He put your name on the Delaware shell company, your name on the fraudulent invoices, and your name on the $180,000 personal guarantee. He was planning to let you take the fall when the Defense Criminal Investigative Service audited the contracts."
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Ryan dropped his head into his hands, letting out a ragged, terrified sob.
"You held my hands behind my back while your father burned my skin, Ryan," I said, my voice cold as winter ice. "You thought you were helping him secure his empire. In reality, you were helping him sign your own federal indictment."
