Numbers Never Lie (Crimson Romance) (6 page)

As Bob explained the rest to their investigator, he became increasingly agitated and nervous, watching the windows and jumping if he heard some unusual noise. “The first indication that something wasn’t right came about three weeks after the project was approved. I asked one of the staff to run a series of reports for me to pass on to the vendor for review before we started working on the migration.”

“What type of reports?” Agent Vincent was the interviewer sitting in their home asking the questions. She had been on the team for about five years and was really good at getting the details.

“You know, financial statements, trial balance, income statement, aged receivables, that sort of thing. The only difference was that I asked him to run it for
all
companies, not just the main one. Once I delved into them, I saw that there were huge differences in what was on the reports and what had been reported during the financial reviews to the board. I thought the reports had been run incorrectly.”

“How could they be run incorrectly?”

“Pretty easily, actually. There are all sorts of parameters a person can choose when running them that can skew the results … different dates, leaving out accounts, and so on.”

“What happened when you ran the reports again?” Vincent prompted.

“They came back the same, but oddly the night I ran them, I stayed late and no one else was there. When I’m there by myself at night, I usually close my office door. I could hear someone moving around outside that night and it made me nervous. Then, as I was running the reports, my office phone rang showing a caller from inside the office — an unknown extension. I let it ring because the place was empty, and I didn’t want to get sidetracked with something else. If it was a normal work call, they’d leave a message and I’d handle it the next day.”

“Did they leave a message?”

“No, but they called back twice before the power went out.”

“The power went out while you were there?”

“Yeah, I thought it odd, too … but only on my floor. I looked out the window and could see the upper floors still had light based on their reflection in the building across the street.”

“So, did it come back on?”

“I didn’t stay to find out … I kept hearing the noises. It was a little spooky in the dark, so I left.”

“Did you finish running the reports?”

“No, they were still running before the power went out, printing away on my printer. When the power went out, the printing stopped. I just got up and left. I pretty much ran out of the building like a real chicken.” Bob laughed as he said it, probably remembering how foolish he looked hustling out of there, peering over his shoulder every few minutes. He leaned toward Agent Vincent, putting his hands on his knees and speaking slowly, “The reports were gone from my desk when I got to the office the next morning. Every scrap of paper off the printer, and the ones that were finished and sitting next to it. Someone had taken them.”

“Are you sure a cleaning crew didn’t throw them away?”

“I’m sure — they never touch anyone’s desk.”

“Did you run them again?”

“Yes. And they came out totally different, matching exactly to what the board reports showed. I would have thought I’d made a mistake if I didn’t have the matching set at home from my staff member’s initial run.”

“Okay, so the reports were off.” Agent Vincent still hadn’t really grasped the relevancy or importance yet. “Why is that a big deal?”

“Because the reports I originally ran showed somewhere in the neighborhood of four-point-two million dollars missing.”

Vincent registered the comment silently and sat for a couple of minutes, probably to let it sink in. “Wow. That’s a lot of cash. Are you sure?”

“Dead sure.” His eyes stared coldly at Vincent, unflinching. Bob was not a quack. He knew what he was talking about and wasn’t about to have someone think he was prone to wild imaginings.

“But how could someone hide so much money? That’s huge. It doesn’t seem possible.”

“By funneling it through a dummy company into other accounts. The company grosses somewhere in the neighborhood of fourteen-point-two billion a year. In the overall scheme of their budget, that’s not a large number. For you and me, it’s huge, but not for them.”

“Do you have any idea who is involved and how they’re doing it?”

“No, I hadn’t gotten that far. After the night I tried to run the reports, I started getting prank calls at home. When I answered, most times the caller hung up. Sometimes, he would just sit there and we knew he was there but he said nothing. Then one day, he spoke … to my wife. He told her ‘tell your husband to mind his own business.’”

“What did you do?”

“I called you guys.”

“Had you tried to report the fraud internally?”

“Yes, they have a fraud hotline you can call. I tried it. Nothing happened.”

“Nothing at all?”

“To my knowledge, no, but they could have investigated it and just dropped it … or maybe chalked it up to the ramblings of a disgruntled employee. They seem to do that a lot when a complaint is made.”

“Well, that
is
often the case.”

“I suppose. I don’t know. That’s still not a good reason to drop it, is it? Even if it is a disgruntled employee, shouldn’t they document the call and investigate? I would think that more of a reason, rather than less. Employees want to believe their company to be ethical and trustworthy. If they think otherwise and complain, maybe there’s valid reason.”

“Okay, Bob.” Agent Vincent was clearly ready to wrap this up and leave. “Is there anything else we need to know? Anything else unusual that you remember?”

“No … not really.”

“Not really? Or you don’t want to say?”

“I think I’m being followed … or maybe listened to.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m not sure, but there are a lot of signs.”

“Okay.” Vincent didn’t appear to believe that part but she didn’t say so. She wrote on the pad of paper she had in her lap, then rose to her feet. “I’m going to go back and write all this up. We’ll give you a call tomorrow morning and talk through what we want to do next. You’ll be home?”

It was a Friday evening and he didn’t have plans. “Yes, I’ll be here.”

“Good. Talk to you then.”

Chapter Four

Nate would always be the best friend Trev ever had. They entered the Academy at the same time. They did the majority of their training together and often became partnered together on assignments. In the first few years, they worked with a lot of the older guys and learned a great deal. They’d become pretty good friends despite their differences. Nate, a native Californian, was kind of a surfer type. His parents were both multilingual and spoke Spanish as their primary language. Trev, also bilingual, appreciated that they could often switch between languages when they wanted to talk freely.

Five years ago, Trev met Linda Catlin at a bar. She was there with a group of friends for a girls’ night out. Linda emanated an engineered beauty, grace, and glamour, and she had set her eyes on Trevor. He was between assignments and ended up spending the full week of his vacation with her. By the end of the week, on a whim, he asked her to move in with him. Another whim ended up in a proposal. Nate tried to stop him but Trev wouldn’t listen. “Trev,” he pleaded, “take a little more time, man. What do you really know about her?”

“I know enough.”

“Do you? Really? I don’t think so. There’s something not right about her. I can’t put a finger on it but she scares me a little.”

“Scares you? You’re an FBI agent, how the hell can a hundred and thirty pound woman scare you?”

“Not like that. I think she’s going to be trouble for you. I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t say that, should I?”

“No, and it’s none of your business anyway.”

Trev lived with Linda for a year. It was a pretty good year. She tolerated his constant travel and sometimes distant personality, or at least she seemed so. Two weeks after they celebrated their first year together, he came home from a trip to D.C. to find her gone. She’d left a note on the kitchen counter.

I’m sorry Trev, but I can’t do this anymore. I hate being alone all the time. I met someone a couple of months ago while you were in New Orleans and well, he’s pretty great. He’s also here … all the time. Again, I’m sorry.

Take care,

Linda

The key to the apartment lay on top of the note. All her things were gone. She ran out of his life as quickly as she came into it. Oddly, she didn’t leave the ring he’d given her. She said she pawned it. What a cold and cowardly person. She didn’t even have the courage to tell him to his face. He should have been devastated but he wasn’t. He missed her, but in truth, he didn’t like being told what to do. Probably what he missed the most was their physical relationship. Having someone to hold onto at night comforted him after the rougher jobs, especially someone as pretty as she was. Other than that, they had very little in common and he quickly realized that living with her stifled him, or at least he told himself that as often as possible. He wished he’d listened to Nate in the beginning and not wasted a year of his life trying to please her.

After she left, Nate came around every couple of days or so, to check on him. What a good friend. Trev, being the loner that he was, handled it just fine … and eventually told Nate, as politely as he could, to back off. The guy was driving him nuts being around all the time.

Today, Nate’s words showed his steadfast friendship.

“Trev?” Nate watched Trev walk back toward their pseudo office near Sophie’s building.

“Yeah?” The earphones were back in his ears.

“You haven’t worn a smile on your face in years — not since Linda left.”

Trev sobered up. “I’m not smiling now, either.”

“Looked like it to me, dude.”

“Shut up. You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know. I think I’m going to quit wearing these earphones.”

Nate snickered. “She’s got legs a mile long. Looks good in a skirt, don’t you think?”

“I didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, right. I saw you not noticing, remember? It’s good to have you back.”

“I’m done listening to you.” Trev pulled the earphones from his ears and walked into their building. So what if he noticed her? It was kind of hard not to. It didn’t matter, anyway. She was a job, just a job. He opened his cell phone and dialed Sophie’s number.

It rang four times before she picked up. “Sophie Henderson,” she blurted in a bland and professional voice.

“Hey, Henry. Trevor here.” Trev liked the new nickname he’d given Sophie though she didn’t seem to approve. All the more reason to use it.

“Did I forget something again?”

“No, that’s not why I called. Why don’t I meet you Friday evening after work and you can bring the reports? If you take them to work with you, we can just meet near your office. Will that work?”

“I can’t.” She’d hesitated before answering. “I already have plans Friday night.”

“Oh, big date?” Why did he ask that? It was definitely none of his business.

“No, not really. A group of us … we’re taking a friend of mine out for his birthday after work.”

“That’s good. Not a problem.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Well, I’d better go. Give me a call and let me know how you want to handle it.”

“Hey. We’ll be done around eight or so. Why don’t you meet me there and I can give them to you then and show you what I’m talking about?”

“Where?”

“Midtown. Tell me your email address and I’ll send directions.”

“I live near there so that should work out perfect. I have your business card. I’ll send you an email and you can just respond back.”

“Sounds good.”

“See you then.” He hung up without waiting for an answer. When he got to his computer, he shot her a quick email and she responded back with the address. Perfect, he thought. He’ll get a chance to see the information that she wanted to share. This will move the investigation along nicely.

Trev found passing time comfortable. On an assignment, he could sit for hours observing everything. The time passed so slowly it often felt like the world was moving without him. He was used to it and learned to be patient. It took incredible strength to drop his youthful impatience for the job. The waiting formulated scenarios regarding what actions to take and what actions might occur as a result. He spent several hours over the next days thinking about what might occur Friday. If the documents proved as expected, he’d still need the data but it would be important to know how much she shared with the others. It also might be good to watch her interactions with the coworkers. Do they get along well or is she more isolated or reserved from them? Which ones had she struck up friendships with … and did they possibly fit the profile for this?

His thoughts wandered a little as he looked back through all the profiles of her staff. She had a lot of men working on her team. Many of them young — her age or close — and also single. He wondered if any relationships had developed between them. There wasn’t enough information about them, the staff. Why did his investigative team only look at the two managers? The staff probably had as much or more access, and needed to be reviewed more thoroughly. He intended to get the researchers working on that on Monday.

Friday night came way too slow. He’d spent a little time watching her and that ended up being pretty frustrating, just watching. He found himself wanting to hear her voice again.

Sophie Henderson was like a firecracker wrapped up in cellophane. On Friday, he watched her standing at a table near the window, flashing that huge smile and laughing. She was vivacious. Everyone that saw her took a second look, wanting to see that smile again. He sat at the back of the bar with his back to them, looking through the mirror over the bar.

He sipped his drink and watched with interest, observing each member of the small group around her. Three women of varying ages stood across from Sophie all talking at once. He had read about two of them. Sophie’s best friend Callie showed up almost a year and a half earlier, he remembered. She’d relocated from New York. He had nothing on the other girl but her name, Christy James. Both worked for Sophie, but Callie became not only the best friend but also the right arm, so to speak.