Least Wanted (Sam McRae Mystery 2)

Hirschbeck glowered at me. “As I said, we are in the process of hiring an independent auditor. When the audit is complete, we will be happy to share the results, to the extent they are not otherwise privileged.”

I felt sure that Hirschbeck would be very busy coming up with privileges to assert. “I’m assuming that you’ll also have a computer forensics expert make sure no one hacked into the accounts payable system.”

Hirschbeck looked at me as if I was speaking in tongues. “You must be joking.”

“Not at all,” I said. “It’s possible someone did just that.”

“And we have to cough up the money for an expert, based on a mere possibility? I think not. It’s not up to us to prove our system hasn’t been tampered with.”

“Cooper worked in accounting. Perhaps he found a way to do it.”

“I told you, I have nothing further to say about him.”

“Is there some reason why you’re so reluctant to discuss Cooper—and why he left? Or the reasons you decided to search Brad’s workspace?” I leaned in for emphasis. “Is it because you have so very little?”

His face reddened. “We have more than you know,” he blustered. “A certain individual has shared information—on a confidential basis. The person prefers to remain anonymous, due to fear of retaliation by your client.”

So someone spoke out against Brad. I had to wonder if it was Attitudinal Ana. “Brad Higgins wouldn’t hurt a fly. And he has the right to confront his accusers. I’d like to talk to this person. You can be there, if you wish. Just an informal discussion. Off the record.” Not that there was any record to be on, at this point.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Hirschbeck bared his teeth in a fake smile. “Suffice it to say, we are confident that our actions, so far, are legally justifiable.”

“It won’t suffice at all. For all I know, you have nothing. Your source may be biased. Maybe has an ax to grind. Or something to hide. My client says he’s innocent. You’ve placed him under a microscope and put his livelihood and career at risk. It had better be based on more than accusations by an anonymous witness and evidence planted in his office.”

“Planted?” Hirschbeck turned beet red. “I’ll sue you for slander.”

“I didn’t say you did it. Is there a reason for you to take that remark so personally?”

We faced each other down, like gunfighters. I averted my eyes and glanced at Jones, to keep from laughing out loud at Hirschbeck’s mask of righteous indignation. Jones stood there, blinking, her gaze flitting back and forth between us.

The phone rang. Jones picked it up. “Yes,” she said, in a dull voice. “Okay.” When she hung up, she said, “My three-thirty is here.”

“That’s all right,” Hirschbeck said. His vocal chords sounded tight as bridge cables. “Ms. McRae was just leaving.”

I turned to Jones. “It was nice meeting you,” I said. “Maybe sometime we’ll be allowed to have an actual conversation.” I walked out with as much dignity as I could muster. Hirschbeck trailed behind. The two women sat hunched over their desks in the anteroom, making a show of not watching us leave. Jones’s “three-thirty,” some guy dressed like an insurance salesman, was too engrossed in reading outdated celebrity news to spare us a glance.

Hirschbeck followed me to the elevator. I wanted to tell him to fuck off. “It would make everything a lot easier if we cooperated with each other,” I said.

“You’ll get what you’re due in time,” he growled.

“Len-ny,” I said, in a mock pleading tone. He hated being called that. “Why are you doing this? Is it really to protect a confidential source? Or are you still angry, after all these years, that I broke it off with you?”

The elevator arrived. I got on, half expecting Hirschbeck to follow. Instead he snorted, “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that hot.”

“In that case, I can’t wait to learn what you’re hiding,” I shot back as the doors closed.

CHAPTER FIVE

I rushed back to my office for a late meeting with a little old lady who wanted a will done. Before she arrived, I phoned Reed Duvall, a private eye I’d befriended while working opposite sides of a recent case.

“Got some work for you,” I said.

“And I’ve got a problem with you.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m not looking for a handout. This is paying business I’m offering.” Duvall knew I usually did my own case research and investigation, since most of my clients couldn’t afford him.

r />

“That’s my problem,” Duvall chided me. “All you ever call me about is business.”