Trust (26 page)

The sound of my cell phone ringing roused me from sleep on Saturday
morning. I’d been having a rather pleasant dream that involved me, Brianna, and the dining room table. Glancing over at the clock beside my bed, I noted it was only seven in the morning. Whatever this was, it had better be an emergency.

“Hello?” My voice was gruff from sleep, so I cleared my throat as I waited for whoever was on the other end to respond.

“Mr. Coleman, it’s Michael James.”

I sat up abruptly and tossed the sheets out of the way. For Michael to be calling me this early in the morning, he had to have found something about whoever had stolen the money.

“Sorry to bother you so early, but I know you wanted to be kept informed.”

Getting out of bed, I strolled toward my bathroom with the phone pressed against my ear. “Don’t worry about the time, Mr. James. What have you got?”

“As you know, I’ve had my computer guy digging through the files trying to locate the specific computer that was used for the transactions. He broke through late yesterday, and I spent the better part of the night going through all the surveillance video of the area that corresponded with those times.”

He paused.

“Only two people were present in every instance.”

“Who?”

“I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

While I wasn’t thrilled with this, I did understand. “I’ll meet you in my office in an hour.”

Sarah was already up when I walked out of my bedroom. She was sipping on a mug of coffee as usual. “Hey. You’re up early.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, but I have work to do.” She looked me up and down, taking in my attire. “And from the looks of it, so do you.”

I nodded. Although I wasn’t in my usual suit and tie, I was more dressed up than usual for a typical Saturday.

Sarah was quiet as I made myself breakfast. She sat drinking her coffee and nibbling on a bagel.

I joined her at the table and offered her some of my food. She declined. “I’m going to look at a couple of those apartments this afternoon that your lawyer sent over.”

“Hopefully one of them will work.”

She sighed. “I still think this is ridiculous, Stephan.”

Swallowing the last bite of my breakfast, I smiled. We’d had this conversation almost every day this week. My position wasn’t going to change. “Call me when you find the one you want, and I’ll have Oscar handle the paperwork.”

Sarah glared at me as I took my dishes into the kitchen.

When I returned, she was still glaring. “You’re impossible, you know that.”

I laughed. “Why thank you.”

Exasperated, she leaned back in her chair with her right hand casually resting on her belly.

“Call my cell if you need anything. I’ll be at the office for a while, and then I should be home.”

Sarah waved her hand in the air, effectively dismissing me. Her reaction made me smile wider.

The drive to the office was uneventful. It was another crisp fall day, and the traffic was minimal, which was good. It gave me time to think. If Michael had found something on the tapes, it would mean calling in the police. It would also mean that the media would catch wind of yet another scandal with my name attached to it. I knew, before we took any action, I would need to get Oscar involved. My lawyer had certainly been earning his retainer as of late. Every time I turned around, there was something else I needed his assistance with.

There were only a handful of cars in the parking garage when I arrived. Very few people at the foundation worked on the weekends, outside of security and technical support, and even those departments worked with a skeleton crew. Like my father, I believed employees should have family time. There would always be work to do and people to help, but we couldn’t neglect our own lives in the process.

My CFO was already waiting for me when I stepped off the elevator. “Mr. Coleman.”

“Good morning, Mr. James.”

He motioned down the hall. “I set everything up in the conference room. I thought it would be easier to view the footage on the big screen than on a computer monitor.”

Nodding, I followed him into the room we reserved for large group meetings.

We both took a seat, and he picked up the remote. “We narrowed down the times of three of the transactions—all of which were made first thing in the morning. Once I had the times, it was just a matter of going through the video.”

Without commenting further, Michael hit play, and the screen came to life.

A picture of the fourth floor lobby appeared. The place was empty, much like it would be now if we ventured downstairs. The time-stamp on the video showed six forty-two in the morning.

Nothing happened for another few minutes, and then there was movement. Two employees stepped off the elevator. The first one I recognized right away as Megan, the fourth-floor receptionist. As usual, her top was way too tight, showcasing her breasts for all to see. Every time I had to go see Lily, Megan made a play for me. It hadn’t mattered to her in the slightest that I’d showed no interest in return.

The woman with her looked familiar, yet I couldn’t place her.

Michael must have realized my lack of recognition. “Greta Morris. She’s one of Ms. Adams’s assistants.”

Once he said her name, I felt guilty for not immediately knowing who she was. Greta had worked for the foundation almost from the start. My mother had hired her personally. I should have remembered.

We watched for several more minutes as both ladies went to their desks and began working. Nothing noticeable happened until the next set of employees entered the room. At that point, Michael paused the video. “The transaction occurred between six forty nine and seven. Of that, we’re certain. Given the sophistication of the IP scramble we encountered, I’m not willing to take anything for granted when it comes to locating the computer. This, however, doesn’t lie. One of these two women is our thief.”

The two of us spent the rest of the morning combing over the remaining security video. It was much the same as the first. Occasionally there would be one or two other employees present, but always Megan and Greta.

At noon, we took a break for lunch, and I put in a call to Oscar. He suggested pulling the phone records of both women. All the calls they made from the office phones were subject to monitoring and the property of the foundation, so legally we could listen to them without needing a warrant. Unfortunately, that meant neither Michael nor I would be going anywhere anytime soon.

By six o’clock, we were elbows deep in call records. We’d started with the ones immediately following the dates and times we knew the money had been stolen. Nothing.

Since both of us were determined to solve this mystery, we buckled down and kept searching. I sent a quick e-mail to both Brianna and Sarah to let them know I wouldn’t be home this evening due to something at work. Not being able to talk to Brianna left an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, but it couldn’t be helped. We were so close, and yet we were missing an essential piece of the puzzle.

It was well after two in the morning before we had a breakthrough, and even when we heard it, we had to rewind it again to be sure.

“Did you get it?”
You could tell the woman didn’t want anyone around her to hear her conversation.

“Yep. I got it. You did good.”

“Are you sure this is the best way?”

“How else were you going to get the money, Grams? This was the best way. They’ll never miss it.”

The woman sighed.
“I need to get back to work.”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ve got you covered.”

The conversation ended, but I had to hear it a third time to be sure. Even then, it was hard to believe Greta Morris, who’d been working for my family for over fifteen years, had stolen from us. And from the sound of it, her grandson was the mysterious computer wizard who’d manipulated the IP signatures.

I rubbed the heels of my palms into my eyes. “I can’t believe it was her.”

“Don’t feel bad. She wasn’t on my radar either until I saw the video.”

Michael fell back in his chair and closed his eyes, exhaustion taking over.

“When was the last time you slept?” I asked.

He open one eye and glanced over at me. “What time is it?”

“Almost three in the morning.”

“Sunday?”

I frowned. “Yes.”

“About forty-five hours.”

Standing, I raised my arms over my head and stretched. “We both need a break.”

“We have more recordings to go through. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Besides, my eyes hurt, and I’m starting to see double. We both could use a break and a little rest.”

“What about this?” Michael motioned to the files spread across the table.

“I have a key. The door will be locked.”

Once in the privacy of my office, I collapsed on my couch. How Michael was still functioning on so little sleep, I had no idea. It hurt to keep my eyes open at this point.

Not bothering with anything more than kicking off my shoes, I settled into the couch and closed my eyes. Within seconds, I was asleep.

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the sun blazing through the large windows in my office. I’d been so tired, I hadn’t thought of pulling the blinds. Glancing down at my watch, I realized it was just after nine—I’d slept about six hours. My back was slightly stiff from my choice of bed, but other than that, I felt rested. That was good since Michael and I had another long day planned.

After freshening up some in my bathroom, I ambled down the hall to the executive lounge where Michael had crashed. He was stretched out along the sofa at the back of the room, snoring. I decided to let him sleep for a while longer and went back to my office. There was a lot that needed to happen today.

The first thing I did was call Jamie and ask if she would pick up breakfast, along with an assortment of sandwiches, and bring them to the office as soon as possible. I could tell she was curious as to what was going on by her slight hesitation, but she didn’t ask questions.

While I waited for her to arrive, I send out an e-mail to all the board members notifying them of an emergency meeting Monday at eight. I didn’t want to sit on this. As much as I hated firing people, Greta had broken the law and my trust. I didn’t have a choice—she had to be dealt with. I sent an additional e-mail to Lily asking that she stop by my office before the meeting. If Logan hadn’t been home this weekend, I would have called her. He was scheduled to fly out of town again first thing Monday morning. I didn’t want to interrupt their time—especially when there was nothing she would have been able to do at the moment.

My next order of business required a phone call to the head of our IT department. He’d been involved with Michael’s investigation extensively already. Unfortunately, I was going to have to interrupt his weekend.

“Hello?”

“Good Morning, Erik. It’s Stephan Coleman. My apologies for interrupting your Sunday.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Is there something wrong with the servers?”

“No, but I’m afraid I’m going to need you to come into the office today. Mr. James and I are in need of your assistance.”

Again, there was silence. I heard a door open and then close before Erik spoke again. “You found something?”

I decided to keep it simple. “Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll need about an hour. My wife is getting the girls ready to go to the park.”

“I understand. Get here as soon as you can. And please pass along my apologies to your wife. If it could wait until Monday, I wouldn’t pull you away from your family like this.”

“No. I completely understand.”

Hanging up the phone, I sighed. I was going to have to do something to make this up to Erik and his family. It was bad enough that I was having him come in on his day off, but to find out they’d had plans sent a wave of guilt through me. Family was important. Losing my parents had taught me that harsh lesson. It was also the reason why Richard’s lack of faith in me hurt so much.

Pushing that to the back of my mind for the moment, I returned to my e-mail. The first thing I noticed as I began scanning was that there was no e-mail from Brianna last night with her journal entry. I frowned. Brianna was near perfect at following instructions. She never willfully disobeyed me. I immediately started wondering if something had happened. Had she been hurt? Was she not able to get to a phone or a computer?

Before I could second-guess myself, I fished my cell out of my pocket and dialed Ross’s home number. It rang several times and then went to voice mail. I cursed and ended the call before leaving a message.

My next attempt was to Ross’s cell. This time it sent me straight to voice mail. “Call me when you get this. I need to speak to Brianna, and no one is answering the home number.”

I knew my message was rather direct given the fact that I wanted his assistance, but my level of anxiety was increasing. I needed to hear her voice . . . know that she was okay. Her not e-mailing me was secondary. I knew she had to have a good reason for not obeying my rule. Even if she didn’t, I would deal with that
after
I knew she was safe.