The millionaire knew our address before we told him—and Grace had hidden the reason for years - usnews

Frank Foster—keep an eye on this one. He asks the right questions.

“Did you write that?”

Arthur nodded.

“You liked him.”

“I respected him.”

“But you fired him.”

“Yes.”

There was no defensiveness in the answer.

That somehow made it easier to listen.

“What really happened?”

Arthur leaned back.

“Your father discovered that maintenance spending at his depot had been cut too sharply. He asked for more funding. The requests were delayed by corporate management. Eventually he began moving money from other operating budgets to pay for repairs.”

“Was that allowed?”

“No.”

“But the trucks needed fixing.”

“Yes.”

“So he did the right thing.”

Arthur looked toward the garden.

“He did the right thing in the wrong way.”

That sounded like something Grace would say.

“When auditors discovered the transfers, they suspected he was hiding larger problems. Then several maintenance reports surfaced that had not been submitted on time.”

“Because Dad hid them?”

“Because he was embarrassed that the repairs weren’t finished.”

I frowned.

“That seems stupid.”

“It was.”

Arthur smiled faintly.

“Your father eventually said the same thing.”

“What did you do?”

“I believed my executives when they told me Frank had acted irresponsibly. I dismissed him.”

“And later?”

“Years later, during another audit, I discovered internal correspondence showing those same executives had denied his funding requests while assuring me the maintenance program was fully funded.”

I stared at Dad’s photograph.

“Did you tell him?”

Arthur’s voice became quiet.

“I tried.”

“When?”

“Two weeks before your parents died.”

I looked at him.

Arthur opened a drawer in the greenhouse desk.

He removed a yellowed envelope.

The front had my father’s name on it.

Frank Foster.

The address was ours.