Chapter 30
Sandra spread contracts across her desk, staring at numbers that made her eyes cross. Sixty percent markup of subcontractor fees. Sixty-three percent markup of subcontractor fees. Fifty-seven percent of subcontractor fees. After an hour of analysis, the math still pointed to systematic fraud.
This wasn't standard markup. This was deliberate inflation.
And while a builder could legally inflate their markup to whatever they wanted, the big question that ran through her mind was why?
Blackwood Luxury Custom Homes made millions, and certainly was not hurting for money.
Anytime a business handled a great deal of cash, there was always a question of their ability to hide money.
Sandra pulled up public records and found something she thought was curious.
Blackwood's charitable contributions had nearly tripled over the past three years.
Youth sports leagues, community centers, churches…
all donations that generated positive press and community goodwill.
Perfect cover for someone who needed to appear beyond reproach.
She also learned they had an office in Baytown, even though the main office was in Virginia Beach.
An hour later, Sandra parked outside Blackwood's Baytown location. Harrison worked in the main office in Virginia Beach, but she hoped she could gather some information locally. She pressed her lips together.
The lobby featured warm pine flooring and fresh flowers. A young woman with perfectly styled blond hair looked up as Sandra approached.
"Hello, welcome to Blackwood Luxury Custom Homes. I'm Jessica."
"Hi, I'm Sandra O'Neill. I'm an attorney, and I was hoping to speak with someone about your contracting processes? I have a client interested in commissioning a home, but she's asked me to review your standard procedures first."
Jessica's smile brightened. "Of course! Let me see if Harry Blackwood is available."
A moment later, Sandra followed her down a hallway lined with photographs of stunning waterfront properties. The oak door opened into a corner office that overlooked Baytown’s Main Street and the bay just beyond.
Harry Blackwood rose from behind an enormous desk, almost comical in its size. She knew he was in his late twenties, and he was dressed in charcoal pants, a gray button-up shirt, and a gray tie.
"Ms. O'Neill," he said, extending a hand. "Harry Blackwood. Always a pleasure to work with legal counsel on our projects."
His handshake lingered slightly, eyes moving appreciatively over her figure. Sandra had encountered this type before… men who thought charm could distract from serious business.
"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Blackwood."
"Please, call me Harry." He gestured to a leather chair, then leaned casually against his desk edge. "So you're representing a potential client?"
"I am. She's considering a significant investment in a home on the Shore and wants to understand your billing structure before moving forward.
" Sandra settled into the chair, crossing her legs and watching his gaze follow the movement.
"She's particularly interested in how you handle subcontractor relationships. "
"We work with only the finest craftsmen," Harry said, but Sandra caught a slight tension around his eyes. "Quality is our priority."
"Excellent. She's been researching other builders and found some interesting variations in how electrical work is priced.
" Sandra watched his reaction carefully.
"For instance, she spoke with an electrician who quoted his price for a project, but the final homeowner’s billing for electrical work was going to be greatly marked up, even over standard practice. "
Harry's smile faltered almost imperceptibly. "Every project is unique. Costs depend on scope, materials, complexity..."
His response was too rehearsed, and Sandra noticed his hands fidgeting with an expensive pen.
“And I find it interesting that the homebuyer would be talking to the subcontractor. That information should be private between the subcontractor and the builder.”
"Be that as it may, she discovered the costs would be significantly different." Sandra leaned forward slightly, playing the concerned attorney. "My client wants to ensure that if she goes with Blackwood Luxury Custom Homes, she’ll understand where those additional costs come from."
Sweat was beginning to bead on Harry's forehead despite the air-conditioning. "We include project management, quality oversight, warranty coverage..."
"I see,” she said, nodding with a smile, confident that Harry was lying. “And you handle all the contractor billing personally?"
The pen stopped moving. Harry's knuckles were white where he gripped it.
"I oversee Shore operations, yes." His voice had grown tight, carefully controlled. "Each project requires detailed coordination."
"That's quite a responsibility,” she gushed, hoping he would think she was impressed. “I imagine you work closely with the same contractors regularly?"
"We have preferred relationships, of course." Click, click, click with the pen. "Ensures consistency and excellence."
Sandra smiled professionally. "My client will be reassured to know you're so hands-on with the billing process. She mentioned concerns about cost transparency after hearing from some contractors about large discrepancies between their quotes and final homeowner charges."
Harry's eyes darted to the side. When he stood, his movements were jerky.
"I'm not sure what contractors you've spoken with, but our billing is completely transparent. Any questions about specific charges would need a detailed project review."
"Naturally. I was just hoping to understand your general markup structure." Sandra rose smoothly. "Perhaps I could get some documentation about your standard billing practices? My client appreciates having everything in writing."
"Documentation would need to go through our main office." The words came out rushed, defensive.
"I understand. Well, you've been very helpful." Sandra extended her hand. "I'll let my client know about our conversation."
Harry's handshake was limp. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. O’Neill.”
Sandra walked through the hallway with measured steps, hyperaware of Harry's eyes boring into her back.
Only when she reached her car did she allow herself to exhale.
An idea suddenly hit her, and she drove down the street, parking outside a modest brick building.
Seeing the sign on the front door, she pushed ahead into McFarlane and Redding Accountants.
Seeing the woman she was looking for, she smiled. "Lia."
Amelia McFarlane turned and smiled widely before walking over to hug Sandra. "Hey! What a surprise!"
"I know I should have called, but do you have about ten minutes to talk?"
"Absolutely. Come on back."
Sandra followed Lia to her office, calling out a hello to the other accountant, Scott Redding. She'd met both of them through American Legion and Auxiliary projects. Both were accountants, but Lia had special skills and certifications that made her the perfect person to talk to.
Once in Lia's office, Sandra quickly got to business, aware that without an appointment, Lia might have another client coming soon.
"I know that as a Certified Forensic Accountant, you have the skills I think I need.
But all this is on my dime right now... I just need to have you take a look at what I might have uncovered. "
"You've piqued my curiosity," Lia exclaimed.
"Possible money laundering."
Lia's eyes widened. "Oh wow!" She leaned forward. "Tell me all."
Sandra showed the contracts and information she'd gathered, and watched as Lia absorbed all she was seeing.
Nodding, Lia finally said, "I follow what you're saying, and my curiosity is more than piqued now.
I'll need to study these further, but without all the evidence, I can't give a clear judgment on money laundering.
But I will be able to tell you if something is going on. "
Letting out a long breath, Sandra felt her shoulders relax. "Good. That's all I ask for now. Thank you so much!"
Before the two women walked back to the front, Lia had her receptionist make copies of all the paperwork. Sandra hugged Lia before she left, and as she walked back to her vehicle, her mind swirled with tangled thoughts.
She’d barely entered her office when her phone buzzed with a call from Terry. "Hey, what's up?"
"I know you were coming to the middle school concert tonight, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. Patricia called to say she's coming."
"That's fine, honey. Unless you would prefer me not to come—”
"No way. Emma wants you there."
"Then I'll be there." She chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds. "You know, Terry... Patricia and I will be at some events at the same time as long as you and I are a couple."
"I know, babe, but I didn't want you to be blindsided."
She smiled. "It's okay, honest. If you had told me that she hated my guts, I'd be nervous. But that's not the case."
"No... I'm surprised she's coming, but for Emma's sake, I'm glad."
"That's all that matters," she said. As they disconnected, she leaned back and closed her eyes. Everything she’d said to Terry was true, but somehow her day felt as though it was becoming more and more complicated.