“I went through every single client transaction, Dad. Every expense report. Granted, I didn’t study every line item, or look up every purchase order, or check actual filed expense reports against his reimbursements. But I did look at a lot of them, and at overall figures. I couldn’t find ten cents that had been misappropriated. Now, if he’s claiming expenses he shouldn’t be, that’s something I can check, but I need more concrete information or I’m wasting valuable time spinning my wheels.”
Naïve of her to think she’d just open up a ton of files and come across some glaring discrepancy. Or even a slightly buried one. She was used to comparing figures others didn’t look at—like expenses and supplies for each person compared to others working the same or similar job. Looking for waste.
Not looking for a crime.
“I found a couple of people ‘stealing’ from the company I was at a couple of months ago,” she continued, half afraid he was going to be disappointed in her. Which made no sense, considering her parents had been her biggest champions her entire life.
So why the feelings of guilt? As if there was something going on she didn’t want him to know about?
“They worked different shifts and were taking turns clocking out for each other so they’d both get overtime pay when they weren’t even working their forty-hour shifts.”
“And, of course, expense reports not gelling with actual receipts and time stamps has come up more than once, since clamping down on misuse of those perks, or cutting back on some of the more extravagant ones, are the easiest ways to save a company money.”
Howard sipped his whiskey. He was frowning as he studied her.
“I didn’t want to prejudice you,” he said when she fell silent. “And I don’t want to hang Collins without giving him a fair shake,” he added. “I like the guy. He’s always done what he said he’d do. Every single time. Truthfully, I’m not even sure I’ll press charges if it turns out to be him, as long as he makes full restitution and agrees to get out of the business permanently. Only a couple of people know about the fraud at this point. My accountant, and you. For the overall health of the business, I’d like to keep it that way.”
Sitting forward, he put his glass on the table, elbows on his knees, and faced her. “Who knows? You could’ve found something as simple as two expense account reports coming out of one business lunch.”
“Two different people claiming the same lunch?” If it was done all the time, the money would add up. She got that her father didn’t want anyone in the company to know he was checking up on them, but something like that would’ve been easy for him to discover without her help and without raising too many alarms in his ranks.
“More like two expense reports, each claiming half of one lunch when only one employee was there.”
She frowned. She could see duplicity in that but... “If they each claimed only part, then the company wouldn’t be out any money.”
Unless...
“You think someone, say Flint Collins, has somehow managed to secure two expense accounts—both in his name? And is using one to reimburse himself and the other to treat himself to a more expensive lifestyle at the company’s expense?”
He supposedly had that rich girlfriend he was keeping up with, although, to date, she’d seen no indication of another woman in his life.
He’d asked her to have lunch with him. Partially, as a thank-you for helping him out with his sister. Not that she’d done anything. But would a man who was in a relationship do that?
Immediate reasons came to mind why he might. Not least of which might be that he was unethical.
“How much do you know about trading?” her father asked.
She knew there were a lot of legal guidelines; that a lot of people had used a lot of different ways to cheat while doing it. And she knew that the world’s economic security revolved around the stock market.
“Not enough.”
“I thought not knowing too much would make it easier for you to find what we’re looking for, because obviously it’s designed to be missed by those of us closely involved. I also wanted to find out if it appeared that I was doing anything shady. If you were able to discover records that put you in doubt as to my culpability. I needed to know what someone looking from the outside would find, where a trail might lead, in case it led back to me. I’m not completely sure I’m not being framed. Luckily you haven’t found anything.” He stood, went across the room to a row of built-in file drawers and started thumbing through folders.
She hoped that was true—that her father wasn’t being framed. Because she’d held that baby and it was messing her up. She was off her game, going to fail her father, if she didn’t get some help with this assignment. Maybe whatever he was looking for over there in the cabinet would make the difference, would give her a chance to deal with the way she felt and the effect it was having on her ability to do what she needed to do.
This was why Tamara didn’t hold babies. Couldn’t hold them.
Unlike Mallory, who’d held her son every day for almost five months before he’d died and took comfort from the feeling of a baby in her arms, Tamara had never been able to hold her own child. Not even Ryan, who’d been fully viable when he’d been born four months early.
And while, for the most part, Tamara had recovered, the one thing she could not do was hold a child. It wasn’t as if a woman couldn’t live a full, productive, happy life without ever holding a baby. Particularly a woman who knew she was never going to have children of her own.
Howard was back, handing her some files. “These are the basic rules of trading,” he told her. “You can find the same kind of thing on the internet, but this is something I put together for a college career day I was doing a few months ago. You won’t need to know any more than that.”
She took the files.
He emptied his glass. “You ready to go meet your mother for dinner?” he asked. She’d taken a rain check the night before. Her mother had already cashed it in.
They stopped by her place to drop off her car and then, in the front seat of her father’s Lincoln, she leafed through the material he’d given her—thinking of Flint Collins as she did.