Catnip (Dunbarton Mysteries Book 1) (13 page)

The suggestion launched with
excited anticipation landed like a lead balloon. Her father looked at her
skeptically. “That’s a bit far-fetched, honey. Might just as well suspect Wilf
Mitchell. Everyone knows he collects cats.” Everyone laughed except Chris who
pretended to be deep in thought while he surreptitiously scratched his
sand-flea bites, and Alicia who was affronted that nobody was taking her
seriously.

Ignoring the joke, she continued,
“That’s what I thought too, but I decided to do a little investigating. I
called that cute Investigator. You, know, Hugh Jameson, the one who came here
to question us. Anyway, I arranged to meet him for coffee at Tim Horton’s last
night. I told him I was so upset by what was happening and I said that I didn’t
want him to think badly of me.” Her face wore a self-satisfied smirk at the
memory of her heart-melting performance. “He was really very sweet. He said he
knew I wouldn’t have been involved in anything underhand. I got him talking
about his job and the APS. He really loves his job but he hates his boss, the
Regional Director, Bill Abbot. He says that Abbot doesn’t care about the
animals. He’s just using the APS as a stepping-stone to political life. He says
Abbot is thrilled with this whole situation. He loves the publicity and the
large financial gain for the Society is a big feather in his cap.” Alicia sat
back, smiling expectantly but the others looked a little blank. “Don’t you get
it? He could have Marmalade hidden away somewhere.”

Chris, James and Alice glanced
surreptitiously at each other. It was possible that someone with that much
ambition, someone ruthless enough, could have planned something like this. It
was possible, but was it likely?

Chris turned to look at Alicia.
Her eyes were shining with excitement. “What do you think we should do?”

It was her turn to be surprised.
Didn’t he get it? “I think we would conduct our own investigation. Snoop around
a little. See what we can find out.” She couldn’t understand why they weren’t
as excited as she was. “I can keep pumping Hugh for inside information.” The
despair in Chris’ heart that had lifted slightly when she’d explained why she
had met with Jameson, returned in full measure. “We can watch Abbot. See where
he goes. If he does have Marmalade, he would have to go and feed him sometime.”

It was a long-shot, but since
no-one had a better, or for that matter any other suggestion, they decided it
was worth a try.

James looked thoughtful. “Abbot
hasn’t lived here very long. I don’t know anything about him. I can ask around
a bit and see what I can find out.”

Alice nodded. “I know someone who
volunteers out at the Society headquarters. I think I’ll give her a call and
invite her over for coffee, see what I can find out about what it’s like there.
That is if she’s still talking to me,” she added ruefully.

“I’ll check him out on the
computer. Do a credit check, property holdings, that sort of thing.” Privately,
Chris thought it was all a waste of time - something he knew a lot about - but
he certainly didn’t have a better lead, and remembering the Wilf fiasco, he had
no right to ridicule any idea, no matter how far-fetched it might seem.

Alicia, on the other hand, was
pumped. “This is great! I just know we’ll come up with something.”

For the next couple of days, they
each pursued their own investigations. Chris felt sick every time he thought
about Alicia meeting with Hugh Jameson but tried to push it to the back of his
mind. She’d called him a couple of times, her number coming up in Call Display,
but he hadn’t answered. Her messages sounded increasingly concerned but he didn’t
care. He couldn’t face talking to her yet, not before he was sure he could put
on a good performance. That was what it was going to take to appear normal with
her, to pretend that nothing had happened and that his world hadn’t just
crumbled at his feet.

Strangely though, as messed up as
his personal life had become, the research he was doing into Bill Abbot’s
financial affairs was turning up some surprising things, and when they finally
all met once again in the Dunbar’s library, he had to admit that perhaps there
was something to Alicia’s crazy theories.

James went first. “There isn’t
too much I can tell you that’s of any help to us. Abbot came here about seven
years ago. He’s married. His wife’s name is Jennifer. They have a large house
at the edge of town. It’s not their first house in town. They used to live in a
much smaller one when they first arrived. They built this one two years ago. He’s
a lawyer by profession. He had a practice in Waterloo before he was made the
Regional Director and moved here. They must have another source of income
besides his salary, because they both drive expensive cars and take at least
one long vacation abroad each year.”

Chris was feeling quite excited
at this information, but wanted to postpone his report, and instead asked Alice
to go next.

“My friend Susan volunteers at
the APS once a week. She helps out with the animals, brushes and grooms them,
and just gives them some love and attention. She says the shelter is in bad
shape. They are short of everything. The budget is cut to the bone and they may
even have to cut staff. There is even talk of closing the barns where they keep
the rescued horses, and if that happens, they don’t know what will become of
them.”

Alicia cut in, “That’s what Hugh
has been telling me. He says that they are being told that government funding
keeps getting cut, and that donations are down and there just isn’t enough
money. Staff have even taken voluntary pay cuts to try to help out.”

Chris had heard enough. “Well
that’s all very interesting in the light of what I’ve found. In the last five
years, Abbot has bought not only the land that his house is on, but also two
other parcels of land in this area, a beachfront cottage and a few acres of
prime development land outside of Walkerton. Not bad for a man whose salary is
$95,000 a year.”

There was a momentary stunned
silence and they all began talking at once.

“How is that possible?”

“Does his wife work?”

“Did they inherit money?”

“I think he’s a crook.” Alicia
said aloud what everyone else was thinking.

“But how do we prove it?” James
asked.

However it was Alice who asked
the really important question. “And even if we can prove it, how does it help
us?”

It was a deflating thought, but
again it was Alicia who had the answer. “I think that any man who could steal
from helpless animals, and the people who are trying to look after them, would
be more than capable of stealing a cat and framing us.” Her eyes were steely
with determination. “And I for one will do anything necessary to stop him.”

Before anyone else could respond,
there was a loud honking from the street. James looked out. “There’s a Porsche
convertible in front of the house with some redhead in it, honking.”

“A redhead? It can’t be.” Chris
ran to the front door and the others followed.

When he unlatched the door and stepped
out, the door of the Porsche opened and a tall, slim woman emerged. She had
shoulder-length red hair and the fair skin and blue eyes that went with it.
Alicia immediately noticed her clothes - a heather-colored jacket and gray wool
slacks, both immaculately cut and obviously expensive.

“Shae, is that you?” Chris called
as he ran down the steps and across the lawn.

“Chris!” The woman named Shae
screamed as he picked her up and swung her around. “I’ve been driving all over
this hick town trying to find you.”

Alicia thought her heart actually
stopped when she saw Shae kiss Chris and realized that he was kissing her back.
She pretended not to see the shocked looks her parents threw her.

Arm in arm, Chris and Shae walked
to the house and up the steps. Once inside, they returned to the library and he
did the introductions.

“Everyone, this is Shae O’Neil,
an old ... friend.” The hesitation before ‘friend’ told Alicia all she needed
to know about Shae and Chris’ past. The question was, why was she here in the
present?

After they’d finished with the
formalities, and refreshments had been offered and declined, Chris asked what
was, for Alicia, the sixty-four thousand dollar question. “What are you doing
here?”

She laughed. “You mean, what is a
city girl like me doing in a place like this? I could ask you the same
question, darling boy.”
Darling boy?
“Seriously,” she went on, “your
folks called me and told me what’s going on. They wanted to hire me to come and
help you. Isn’t that sweet?” Chris could think of other words he’d use. “I told
them that I wouldn’t hear of it. If you needed me, I’d be there. And so here I
am. I just told them at the office that I needed some time off. I’m a partner,
now. Did you know?”

Chris hadn’t known. He’d been
ahead of her on the partnership ladder before he left and he wondered if it
would bother him, but not even one pang of envy popped up and he knew that,
whatever happened, leaving had not been the wrong decision.

“Congratulations. I’m really
happy for you. You’ve earned it.”

“Thanks! I have,” she added
matter-of-factly. “Anyway, they were great about it. Told me to take as much
time as it takes. You’re still really respected there. They said if you need
anything, just call and the big guns will be here. Meanwhile, you’ve got me. So
what can I do? Fill me in.”

So they did, from the start right
up to the discussion that they’d been having when she arrived.

She was a quick study. “Well, I
agree with Alicia and I think that we need to find out all we can about Abbot
and the running of the APS.”

Chris ran his fingers through his
hair in an abstracted manner. “I know that, but we are at a loss as to what to
do next. Our resources are limited.”

“Your resources just increased.
You’ve got me. And you know, Chris, I have very few scruples. In fact, I’m a
shark.”

The others thought she was joking
and laughed, but Chris didn’t because, he knew she was simply stating the
unvarnished truth. She had an uncanny ability to spot the weakness in an
opponent, the soft underbelly, and didn’t hesitate to go in for the kill. It’s
what made her a highly successful lawyer and how she had become a partner in
one of the nation’s top law firms at the age of thirty.

“What do you suggest?” he asked.

“I think we need to find out all
we can about the finances of the APS.”

“But how?” Alicia asked. “We can’t
just go in there and ask to see the books.”

“I can.” Shae’s face had a look
that Chris knew well. Her ‘killer’s instinct’ was showing. “He doesn’t know me.
I’ll make an appointment with him. I’ll tell him who I am and say that I have a
large corporate client who has learned of the situation from the media and that
wants to make a sizable donation to help support the shelter, say, $250,000.
But they’ll want to see the books first. That’s not an unusual request for a
large donor to make. When he does, I’ll send them to a friend of mine. We’ve
worked together a few times. He’s a forensic accountant.”

“What’s that?” James asked.

“It’s an accountant who
specializes in money trails. This would be a piece of cake for him. He’s
usually chasing down the financial transactions of people who launder money for
the big drug cartels or corporate tycoons who divert shareholders’ money to
their personal use.”

Chris wondered what kinds of
cases she’d been involved in to have worked with someone like that, but he didn’t
ask. There was a time when he’d had the right. But that time was long past.
Instead he asked, “How would he do that?”

“His job, his problem. He has
contacts everywhere. He’d compare the books to suppliers records. He’d look for
sources of income that could explain the property acquisitions. He’ll follow
the money. He’s the best,” she added simply.

“And the best doesn’t come
cheaply.” James said quietly.

“No, he doesn’t,” she looked at
him squarely, “but don’t worry about that for now. Let’s just get this guy,
then we can figure out how to pay the bills.”

Shae knew they didn’t have time
to waste and she didn’t. She called Abbot the next morning and set up an
interview for that afternoon. The mention of a sizable donation earned
immediate interest and compliance.

She arrived exactly on time,
wearing her most expensive, designer-labeled power suit. She could see him
sizing her up - Gucci bag, Armani suit, Prada shoes. It all spelled money.

Shae, on the other hand, saw a
man who was trying to hide his eagerness to acquire the large donation she’d
mentioned and failing miserably.

Bill Abbot was what she called a ‘Glad-Hander’.
Tall and heavily built, wearing a middle of the road suit, he had hair that was
turning silver at temples and a waistline that strained a little under his
belt. He had once, probably, been quite handsome, but was now a little paunchy
with puffy eyes and the beginnings of a double chin. Nevertheless, he smiled
broadly and greeted her effusively, looking deeply into her eyes and holding
her hand just a little too long.

“What a welcome surprise to meet
you. It seems amazing to me, Miss O’Neil, that someone as young and beautiful
as you could already be a partner in a large law firm.”

“Not so amazing, Mr. Abbot. I am
amazingly good at what I do,” she said in a matter-of-fact way.

Abbot looked a little
disconcerted at this blunt statement. Most women were usually a little more
responsive to his attentions. “Just so. So tell me, Miss O’Neil, what is this
donation that you mentioned on the phone? I believe you said, $250,000.”

Shae explained, using the story
they had concocted the night before. She had already been in touch with the
president of a national dog and cat food producer and persuaded him - he owed
her a favor - to back them up if Abbot decided to check out their story. He
had, however, added that if this blew up in their faces, he would throw them to
the wolves and deny everything. She had thought that seemed fair.

As expected, Abbot was overjoyed
at the prospect. “You can’t imagine, Miss O’Neil, what this will mean to our
shelter. We do the best we can with the limited resources at our disposal but
this money will mean we can help so many more helpless creatures.”

She smiled, understandingly. “My
client is happy to help. All he asks is that I have a look at the books before
he sends the check.”

The smile on Abbots face froze. “Look
at the books?”

“That’s not a problem is it, Mr.
Abbot? I think that it is a pretty common condition. My client simply wants to
make sure that the money will be used in a way that is most beneficial to the
animals.” She put on her most winning smile. “We just want to know how the
Society’s income is divided - you know, what percentage goes to salaries,
supplies, food, that sort of thing? That’s not a problem, is it?” she repeated
a little more firmly.

“No … of course not. It’s just
that our books are all on computer.” He pointed to the computer as if to imply
that it would consider the request to be unreasonable.

“That’s not a problem. You can
simply download your books onto a disc and I can take them with me.”

“Will your accountants need much
time with them?” The slight emphasis he put on accountants showed her the way.

“Oh my, no. I’m not sending them
to our accountants. That’s not necessary. I’ll look them over myself and get
back to you in a couple of days. It really is merely a formality but my client
does insist. So, if you don’t mind ...”

He looked visible relieved. “Oh,
you’re going to look them over. Well, I certainly can’t object to that, not
that I would anyway. We have nothing to hide. Our books are an open … er …
book,” he finished lamely and turned to the computer.

Shae arrived back at the Dunbar
house in time for dinner. “Mission accomplished.”

“You got them?” Chris asked.

“Did you doubt it?” she asked
with an amused look.

“Never,” He replied, and it was
the truth. “Where are they?”

“I sent the disc by overnight
courier. He will have it by morning and he’s promised to get right on it. We
should have a preliminary report in a day or two. Of course, it will take
longer than that for him to completely map out the money trail, but he’ll be
able to tell us if he spots any irregularities. Don’t worry. I told you, he’s
the best.”

“I just hope he’s also the
fastest,” Chris said with feeling. “The case comes to court in two days.”