Chapter 7 - THE RALLY
The Dayton Community Center was packed.
Local news vans were parked on the curb, their satellite dishes raised toward the twilight sky.
Inside the gymnasium, folding chairs were arranged in neat rows.
Banners hung from the ceiling: VANCE FOR CITY COUNCIL - INVESTING IN OUR CHILDREN.
Eleanor and I pushed through the double doors.
Marcus Vance was standing near the stage, wearing a tailored blue suit.
He looked stressed. He kept checking his watch.
When he saw Eleanor, he rushed over.
“Where is the truck?” he hissed, pulling us into a quiet corner near the water fountains. “The press is waiting. The parents are waiting. I have nothing to hand out!”
“The truck isn't coming, Marcus,” Eleanor said, her voice shaking. “Dalton’s debt collectors found Warehouse 4. They’re burning the supplies.”
Marcus closed his eyes and leaned back against the cinderblock wall.
“My career is over,” he muttered. “I announced a massive donation. If I walk out there empty-handed, I look like a fraud.”
“Your career isn't the problem,” I interrupted.
He opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Who are you?”
“Laura Bennett. My daughter was humiliated yesterday because your school’s principal was covering for David Dalton’s embezzlement.”
Marcus winced. “I didn't know about Dalton’s scheme until yesterday.”
“I believe you,” I said. “But right now, Dalton’s men are angry. They didn't get their money. Which means Dalton is going to be looking for a scapegoat.”
“So what do we do?”
“We give him one.”
I looked around the room.
Parents were taking their seats.
I saw Rachel walk in, holding Emily’s hand.
My heart squeezed. I had told Rachel to keep her home, but she must have heard about the rally and brought her, thinking it was a school event.
Emily saw me and waved.
I forced a smile and waved back.
“Marcus,” I said, turning back to the politician. “You have news cameras here. Live feeds.”
“Yes.”
“You need to go on stage right now. But you aren't going to announce a donation.”
“Then what am I announcing?”
“An audit.”
He stared at me.
“I want you to stand at that podium, point directly into the cameras, and announce that the Dayton Community Foundation has uncovered a massive embezzlement ring operating through Apex Educational Supply.”
Marcus shook his head frantically.
“I can’t do that! If I call out Dalton on live television, the cartel will know he lost their money. They’ll kill him.”
“They already know he lost their money,” I countered. “But if you announce it on the news, you make the police investigate Apex. You put a spotlight on the missing funds. The cartel hates spotlights. They will cut their losses and run. They’ll leave the school alone.”
“And what about David Dalton?” Eleanor asked quietly.
“David Dalton goes to prison,” I said. “Where he belongs.”
Marcus rubbed his face.
“I need proof to make an accusation like that on TV. I can’t just say it.”
I reached into my pocket.
I pulled out the silver charm bracelet.
“The police have the original ledger with the forged signatures,” I said, hoping Principal Harris had actually gone to the station. “But I have the financial trail.”
I opened my laptop, balancing it on my arm.
“I pulled Apex’s public filings,” I said, showing him the screen. “David Dalton billed the foundation for $125,000. But I tracked the serial numbers on the shipment manifests from his warehouse. He only purchased $10,000 worth of actual goods.”
Marcus looked at the screen.
“That’s fraud.”
“It’s wire fraud,” I corrected. “Federal.”
Suddenly, the gym doors banged open.
A man walked in.
He was sweating, his eyes wild.
It was David Dalton.
He saw Marcus and marched straight toward us.
Eleanor stepped behind her brother.
“Vance!” Dalton spat, keeping his voice low but furious. “Where are my boxes?”
Marcus stood tall. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”
“Don't play me!” Dalton hissed. “My men tracked your sister’s car to the warehouse. You stole my property to use for your stupid election!”
“It wasn't your property,” I said, stepping forward. “It belonged to the school.”
Dalton glared at me.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Emily Bennett’s mother.”
He sneered.
“I don't care about your kid. I need those boxes back right now.”
“You can’t have them,” I said. “They’re burning.”
Dalton froze.
“What?”
“Your debt collectors found the warehouse,” I said calmly. “They realized you tried to pay off a hundred-grand debt with crayons. They were lighting the match when we left.”
Dalton’s face turned gray.
His knees actually buckled slightly.
“No. No, no, no.” He pulled out his phone, his hands shaking violently.
He dialed a number.
It went straight to voicemail.
“They’re gone, David,” Marcus said, finding his courage. “And I’m about to go on that stage and tell the entire city exactly how you stole from our schools.”
Dalton looked up, panic replaced by pure malice.
“If you do that,” he whispered, “my wife goes down too. She signed the fake distribution forms.”
“She chose to do that,” I said.
“And I’ll take Harris down,” Dalton added. “He knew.”
“He’s already at the police station,” I lied, praying it was true.
Dalton backed away.
He looked at the stage, then at the news cameras.
He turned and bolted for the exit.
“Let him run,” Marcus said. “The police will catch him.”
Marcus straightened his tie.
He looked at me, then at his sister.
“Wish me luck.”
He walked up the center aisle and climbed the stairs to the stage.
The crowd quieted down.
The news cameras flipped on, red lights glowing.
I walked over to the seating area and sat next to Emily.
She grabbed my hand.
“Is everything okay, Mom?”
“It’s going to be,” I whispered.
Marcus tapped the microphone.
“Good evening,” he said, his voice booming through the speakers. “I invited you all here tonight to announce a donation. But I stand before you empty-handed.”
A murmur of confusion rippled through the crowd.
“I am empty-handed,” Marcus continued, his voice hardening, “because the supplies meant for our children were stolen by a man named David Dalton, owner of Apex Educational Supply.”
The crowd gasped.
Flashbulbs went off.
I watched Marcus lay out the entire scheme on live television.
He was eloquent. He was furious.
He was exactly what a politician should be.
But as I sat there, holding my daughter’s hand, a terrible thought struck me.
I looked at Rachel.
“Where is Mrs. Dalton?” I whispered.
Rachel frowned. “I haven't seen her since she left the school.”
I looked back at the doors Dalton had just run through.
He didn't run to escape.
He ran because his wife was the one who forged the signatures.
Which meant she had the only remaining evidence that could put him away.
And I suddenly remembered what Caleb’s mother had said earlier.
“She grabbed her purse, walked out the front doors, and drove away. She left her class with the counselor.”
May you like
But she didn't leave the school.
She had gone to the one place nobody would look.
