Having Fun with Mr. Wrong (35 page)

He exited his private elevator and treaded the plush carpeting of the executive suite to meet with his chief officers. A glow of sheer satisfaction overcame him as he thought of the recent addition to his business. He had ignored the naysayers who believed his expertise existed outside the area of expansion and went ahead with it anyway. From the ground roots all the way up to the top, if there was one thing Michael learned about himself, it was that his business sixth sense had never led him astray. And that was why he stuck with his plan to open the polo school. How fortunate to have the school booked to capacity and in full swing on its first session.

Eventually, he’d pocket the sponsors and host regional polo matches.

He’d planned to first meet Bert Lankely, chief risk manager. Michael caught him in a meeting with legal counsel, John Woodwork, which couldn’t be good. If Bert was meeting with the lawyer, it had to be bad news. His mental high dropped a few notches.

“Hi, Mike, glad you’re here,” Bert said as he and John stood to greet him.

John cleared his throat. “Mike, we’ve had a development we need to discuss.”

Dread immediately replaced his good mood. “Development” had a bad ring to it. “Gentlemen, let’s dispense with the formalities and get right to the point.”

Bert took his seat behind his desk, John and Mike in chairs opposite him.

“We’ve had a bit of beginner’s bad luck with the polo venture,” John said. “You’ll recall the accident with the young polo student, May Cronin, a few months ago.”

“Yes, an unfortunate event. I’ve spoken to the parents a couple of times, and they said she’d fared pretty well,” Michael said.

“It appears that her injuries are far greater than initially thought. Numerous tests were done, and it’s been determined that the poor girl will remain paralyzed from the accident.”

How very sad. A girl’s life was now permanently affected by an accident on his polo school training grounds. There’d been no negligence on the company’s part, but because it happened on his turf, they were financially liable. That was what insurance was for.

But Michael couldn’t help feeling guilty. “This is upsetting, so horrible. We need to send flowers, offer to help with medical costs…” What could he possibly offer to make up for this distressing matter?

“It appears we’ll be offering much more than that. As usual with these situations, inevitably a civil lawsuit has been lodged against Maddox Industries,” John said.

Bert leaned forward. “Although we’re fully insured, the amounts claimed in the lawsuit exceed the maximum coverage paid by our general liability insurance. Our special-risks policy for the polo school wasn’t in effect when the accident occurred. Excess liability will not cover the risk. The business may have to absorb the losses.”

Michael remembered the bit about the special-risks policy. He’d been anxious to open the school for the start of the season, and the policy hadn’t been bound until weeks later. They had the general liability policy in place, so he didn’t think they’d be exposed. The sheer rarity of the accident exposed the calculated risk he had taken. One he shouldn’t have taken. It didn’t matter, the business would have to sustain the losses. He didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“Don’t give up hope because culpability has to be proven in the case. We don’t know all the circumstances yet; however, it is my understanding that there were some shenanigans surrounding the accident that may have caused the girl to fall and be ridden over by her horse—”

“Regardless, we have to offer money to the parents to assist with her medical care. I’ll call them and ask them to work with you and Bert on a preliminary figure.”

“I’m not so sure you want to be getting too friendly, Michael. You may be revealing too much about your guilty conscience, and that won’t be good for—”

“John, as for the pending lawsuit, you do your thing. I’ll do mine,” Michael said, his mind racing with ideas to make things up to the Cronin family. To hell with the money.

The men agreed to do as charged, and he walked out. Dejection seeped through to the very fibers of his being. He hoped the next meeting, with CFO Roger Wilkson, would be uneventful. After meeting with Roger, Michael decided he’d call it a day and visit the Cronin girl at the hospital.

Roger’s office was in the corner opposite his own, facing the Intracoastal Waterway. Michael peered through the side window next to the closed door. Roger was talking on the phone, his face twisted in concentration. He saw Michael and waved him in. Michael sat on the leather-bound chair opposite Roger while he finished his call.

“Okay, Eric, I’ll get those payments in order by the end of the month.” Roger rubbed his eyes, then opened a drawer, and riffled through files. He pulled out a folder and placed it on his desk. “Right, I need to finish our reconciliations, and I’ll call you.” He started keying something on his computer. “We’ll figure it out. Michael’s here now. I got it. Goodbye.” Roger slammed down the phone with a loud thud and looked at Michael.

“What the hell’s going on, Roger?”

“I, ah…I’m not sure. Something is not right.”

Michael’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. What else could possibly go wrong?

He’d known Roger a lot of years. He’d never seen him look so worried. He braced himself for the bad news. “Lay it on me, man.”

Roger glanced down at his charts and fumbled for one. Obviously finding what he’d been searching for, he turned his attention toward Michael. “At first I didn’t have cause for concern. We expected more debt obligations, due to the expansion. But, even with shorter cash flow, I wouldn’t expect the account balances to be shrinking so quickly.”

Shit.
Something was seriously wrong. Could someone have tapped into the company coffers? No, it couldn’t be. In all the years in business, no employee had ever stolen from him. Most of his employees had been with him over ten years. “How could this happen?”

“I conducted a personal audit of our operating accounts, and they were clean. The irregularity occurred with a series of small money transfers throughout the year to the offshore account.” Cleary uncomfortable, Roger shifted in his seat.

“Who authorized them?” Michael snapped. “And what’s the total damage?”

Roger looked at his desk and didn’t meet Michael’s gaze for a minute. “This account is for operations we once ran in the United Kingdom many years ago. Maddox Industries signed a joint venture with a foreign entity for the procurement and distribution of Clydesdale horses. However, it hasn’t been active in many years.”

“Get to the point, Roger.”

“Because I’m an officer and, ah…” Roger pulled out his hankie out and wiped his brow. “I found out certain facts. But I have no access to the offshore account. Since the transactions were technically authorized, they went under the radar.”

“What’s the total damage?” Michael snapped.

“The sum total of the withdrawals is close to two million dollars. Mike, the whole thing threw us for a loop. The initial transactions were relatively small amounts. Then the bank alerted us to a couple of large transfers out of the account only yesterday. Those would have been picked up on the monthly reconciliation, but it’s just the thirteenth—”

“What’s the balance now?”

“Slightly under fifty thou.”

“Unbelievable. Who the hell is the culprit?”

“Mike, this isn’t going to be easy. Maybe there’s an explanation. I can’t see—”

“Spit it out!” Michael’s face burned from the anger fuming inside of him.

“One of the original signers on the offshore account is Anabel Hardy. And she’s still an officer here. So I think that’s why the small transfers flew under the radar. Everyone thought it was legit.”

“I know she’s an officer, dammit. I made her one twenty years ago.”

Anabel Hardy, his wife’s maiden name, was on the offshore account because back then Michael had needed her credit rating for the joint venture. She was on at least one, if not more operating accounts of several of the US operations as well. This dated to the beginning of the business operations.

What in the hell was going on? Anabel had been around, drunk, but around. Everything seemed as normal as usual.

Michael jumped up and paced the office. “I don’t get it. What could she possibly do with all that money?”

“She’s been poking around a bit. I didn’t think anything of it, but we’ve received a few calls lately, inquiring as to how much we’re spending on the polo school project, and…well, she found out about the lawsuit. She made the large transfers sometime after her last call.”

Michael’s mouth ran dry. This couldn’t have happened.

Roger continued, “Maybe she thought that you’d lose the lawsuit, and she wanted to clean you out before someone else did.”

“You didn’t happen to notice the large drop in the operating account balance? You could have curtailed whatever Anabel was doing if you’d brought it to my attention sooner!” Michael’s mind swam with angry thoughts. Roger had been asleep on the job. There was simply no excuse.

Roger held his hands up. “I’m sorry about this, Mike. Honestly…”

Michael could see the man in front of him literally cringing. “Who are the individuals responsible for the operating account reconciliation?”

“I take one-hundred-percent responsibility, Mike. I review all of the reconciliations before the end of the month. I…I don’t know what got into me or how I could have overlooked this.” Now profusely sweating, Roger loosened his tie.

Michael had no choice, he had to let Roger go. The oversight was insurmountable, and God knew where else he’d slip up. He’d been a solid performer for a lot of years, but this was inexcusable. Roger had fucked up. Royally.

“You’ve been here a long time, Roger, but this is unacceptable.” He attempted to keep his voice calm. “I need your keys and for you to clean out your desk immediately.

“I can’t say I blame you. I…I expected you’d have to do this.” Roger blotted his forehead again. “It’s just, I have a family and kids to support…”

“This oversight could possibly cost the business. I’m afraid I’ll have to let the accountants who report to you go as well. I have no choice, Roger. It’s business.”

“Mike, I take responsibility for this. It’s not the other guys’ fault.”

“Like I said, Roger, it’s business.” The whole lot of them had missed the irregularities, which should have come up in an ordinary daily balance review. “I’ll handle Anabel. Regardless, I can’t trust the accounting to you or your staff any longer. Now, you’ll need to call the staff in here immediately. And I’m sorry, but you understand it’s standard operating procedure in cases like this. I’ll have to call in security to escort you out.”

Roger nodded. He called the staff accountants and ordered them to his office immediately.

Michael pulled his cell out and dialed. “Security, get Paul up to Roger’s office.”

Paul from security arrived with two other guards. They’ve never had to escort one employee out, let alone five, but Michael simply had no other choice. Friendship and loyalty aside, this was one goddamned oversight.

Now he’d deal with Anabel. Obviously, she’d had plans that didn’t include him.

****

Michael had the locks to his building changed, and when everyone had gone for the day, he headed home.

He entered his mansion and almost slipped on the fresh dog poop on the tiled floor at the entrance.

Damned dogs. She loved them so much she let them shit all over. He pulled his shoes off and screamed, “Mirta, are you here?”

No answer. He glanced at his watch. It was past six. The maid had obviously gone home.

Where the hell was Anabel? Probably passed out drunk somewhere.

He stalked through the sprawling eight-thousand-plus-square-foot house, searching for Anabel. He finally caught sight of her out of their bedroom window. She sat in a chaise lounge by the pool.

Heart pounding, not knowing exactly how he’d approach her, he made his way downstairs and out onto the patio. She wore a huge sunhat and flowing floral dress, and one of the damned dogs slept on her lap. The ever-present glass of pinot rested in her hand, while she chatted amiably on the phone.

She gazed up at him with alarm. “Oh, Patty, sorry. Michael’s home now. I gotta go.” She paused. “Yes, I’ll see you there. Ciao for now.”

Anger clogged his mind, and he didn’t know where to begin.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Anabel asked while petting the fur ball in her lap.

“Oh, I don’t know. My business seems to be falling apart. We’re in serious financial trouble. Know anything about it?” He sat on the chair next to her and rested his elbows on his knees.

“I know about the lawsuit. They’ll settle. That’s why you buy insurance. And today the economic news on the growth rate revealed—”

“Anabel, approximately two million dollars has been taken out of the offshore account following a series of transfers made from the operating accounts over the past year. By you, I might add, since you’re the only one on the account. Do you care to explain?”

She put her Maltese down but not the glass and took a deep pull before speaking.

“I see I’ve been found out. Discretion was never one of my strong suits.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m leaving you.” She paused for apparent dramatic effect.

Michael sat speechless.

“I’m not even your bed partner. So why would you be surprised? When was the last time, dear? Should I add, when was the last time with me? I’m finished with you. I simply feathered my nest with a few bucks before I left you.”

Michael took a moment to register what she’d said. No real surprise. He’d expected their farce of a marriage to come to this one day. He just hadn’t expected her to steal two million dollars from him in the process. Hell. Why now, though? “A couple mill is a few bucks?”

“I don’t think that would be unreasonable in the eyes of a divorce court, given the lofty business risks you’ve taken with our money. I mean, a polo school? Really? That’s not going to make you any money. You’re already looking at a lawsuit.” She paused a moment, seeming to search for words. “I am a signer on those accounts, and I’m still an officer of your precious organization. No, let me correct that statement. I’m an officer in
our
organization. Did you forget that it is, in fact, ours, honey?” She drank down the rest of her drink, almost falling off the lounge chair. Her sun hat slipped to the side of her head. Bright red lipstick smeared across her teeth.