For Love of Money (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-six

Still smiling over JC’s responses, Holly punched in a Seattle number.

“Devon Edwards.”

Like JC, just a name. She used to answer the phone the same way. No “hello.” No “good morning.” At the time she’d thought it was professional, but today it simply seemed abrupt. “I got your message.”

“How’s my favorite shark?”

“Alive and chomping.” In an instant, she was transported three hundred miles over the Cascades and into her old life. She could almost hear the hum of financial engines, the crash of multimillion-dollar deals, and the nonstop drone of the billing department. She felt a rush of pleasure, craving the adrenaline high. It was an environment she hungered after, as addictive as any drug. She shook her head to clear it. “How’s William?”

“Lazy slug was still in bed when I left this morning.”

“Yeah, but he’ll have dinner on the table this evening.”

“True.”

She heard the satisfaction in Devon’s voice and wished there was someone waiting for her at her house. Brushing the wistful thought aside, she asked, “What did you find out about Lee Alders?”

“I take it your interest in the guy is personal rather than professional.”

“Good boy. Never assume.”

He laughed. “I saw Alders’ name in the
Post
earlier this week. Dead woman, person of interest, any info, yada, yada. Should I be a concerned citizen and call the Seattle PD?”

Habit kicked in. Holly picked up the handset. Potentially sensitive information was transferred over a landline, never a cell or speakerphone.

“I know the lead investigator with the local sheriff’s department. I’ll pass it along.” She couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice. She imagined JC either getting pissy about her having information he didn’t or delighting in telling her he already knew. She actually hoped it would be the former. Sparring with him could become her favorite activity.

“Is the personal interest Alders or the cop?”

“Neither.” She’d called Devon because he knew everybody, but the downside was anything personal she told him might end up on the gossip circuit. “Alders was married to a friend of mine. I’m trying to understand what kind of person he is.”

“Hope she got a good settlement.”

Settlement? It took a second for the term to register. Devon had interpreted “was married” as
divorced
rather than
dead
.

Holly listened to Devon shuffle papers and wondered if that was what the mystery envelope contained—a proposed settlement offer. She traced a curly circle around Yessica’s name. What else did Marcy’s sister know?

Devon said, “Here it is. Alders made his money in the tech market. He developed a message caching system that he sold to Telnex. The process made a splash. Telnex stock surged after the acquisition. Then Telnex was snapped up by a bigger fish.”

“I read about the sale. Looks like he sold during that boomlet we had a couple of years ago.” The tech market’s irrational exuberance bubble burst long ago, but solid companies, products, or processes continued to attract buyers. If Alder’s message system worked well, it wasn’t surprising a bigger player bought it.

“The tech market was making a comeback until the credit crisis took out the market.”

She wanted information on Alders, not Devon’s commentary on the lingering economic morass. “Give me the inside scoop. What’d you find out about the deal?”

Devon filled in the details. Holly recognized several of the participants. She added another doodle to her paper, doubtful if the money people would—or could—answer her real question. Could Lee Alders kill his wife?

“We didn’t handle the transaction, but I heard it was an outright sale. Cash, not stock.”

“Whose idea was that?” Tech companies used stock whenever they could—as compensation, to pay the bills, to buy other companies. Going public, and cashing in, was still the Holy Grail.

“I heard Alders wasn’t willing to hold stock in a company he didn’t control. Bottom line, your friend’s hubby walked away with roughly twenty million.”

Twenty million might not make him the next Bill Gates, but it wasn’t exactly chump change. “What did he do when Telnex stock took off—and he couldn’t cash in on it?”

“Something disagreeable, I’m sure.”

Hmm. Devon didn’t like the guy. “What’s Alders doing now?”

“He fancies himself a mini-mogul.”

She laughed at the catty tone. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“Okay, Alders knows his stuff,” he said grudgingly. “You might not have found his name because he’s hiding behind a holding company. No one would touch him otherwise. Did you hear about Nyland?”

“I read a couple of articles that implied Alders helped himself to Nyland’s ideas.”

“Nyland conveniently died. Convenient for Alders, that is. Alders would’ve been out millions if Nyland had won. And paid another million in legal fees. I wouldn’t trust Alders with my company, but his firm’s played angel—and I use that term strictly in the financial sense—to a couple of small firms.”

That surprised her. “He doesn’t seem the altruistic type.”

“Trust me, he’s only in it for the money.”

No doubt. Had Alders considered the possible financial loss from a divorce sufficient motive for murder? People had definitely killed for far less.

“What did you think about him, personally?” she asked.

“He spends a lot of time on his sailboat. Goes heli-skiing, glacier climbing. You know, compensating. You knew Alders was climbing with Nyland when the guy died, right?”

“I thought that was strange. If the guy sued Alders, why were they together?”

“They were competing in a climb. A fundraiser for that charity that arranges sporting events for disabled vets. I’m sure they weren’t doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. They both wanted to win. Showing each other up added bonus points. Or it did until Nyland died.”

Holly looked out the office window, idly watching the cars lined up to turn left into the mall. Alders had gotten under Devon’s skin—not an easy thing to do. “I get the impression you don’t like him.”

There was a pause. “If I was talking to anyone else, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Holly sat up straight. “I understand.”

“We were involved in a transaction with one of his companies earlier this year. I can’t tell you any more than that.”

That hurt. She wasn’t sure which stung more, that Devon thought he had to explain his reluctance to discuss the deal or that he considered her one of “them” instead of “us,” no longer privy to inside information. “Okay.”

“A lot of tech guys don’t have the world’s greatest social skills. Alders… He seems like a nice enough guy at first.”

“Sounds like there’s a great big ‘but’ in there.”

She visualized Devon’s grimace and half-shrug and wondered which way the story would go. Yessica had said Alders was violent, but from what she’d read, psychopaths—or was the guy a sociopath?—understood how to cover their tendency to take whatever they wanted. To be successful, instead of having actual feelings or caring about society’s definition of right and wrong, they learned to react to appropriate social cues.

“The deal closed right after Nyland died,” Devon said. “There were serious rumors Nyland’s death was deliberate. I heard Alders paid big money to ‘experts’ to make sure it was labeled accidental. Alders walked away—was never charged—but most people think there’s blood on his hands. And the deal we worked with him? In the boardroom, he was pure charisma. Smooth. Always said the right thing. But what I initially saw as unrealistic expectations were actually demands. It was subtle, but the manipulation was definitely there. He thought he was smarter than everyone in the room. I was glad we weren’t working for his firm.”

Holly wound the phone cord through her fingers. “You think he killed Nyland?”

“Alders is a complete a-hole. Totally ruthless—and I don’t mean in the good business sense. You said he was married to a friend of yours?”

“I never met him.” If Devon wanted gossip, she didn’t have any to offer. She hadn’t even known there
was
a marriage until two days ago.

“I hope your friend invested the proceeds in something besides the tech market.”

Had Marcy gotten any money from Lee? She considered Lillian’s description of the confrontation at the office. Alders couldn’t serve divorce papers himself
,
but he would’ve enjoyed the power play of throwing a copy—the mysterious envelope?—on Marcy’s desk.

“I’m not sure what she would’ve done with the settlement money.” She jotted another note.
Check court records for a settlement agreement
. “Would you do one more thing for me?”

“Keep this up and I’ll have to turn the meter on.”

“Come on, Devon. Desert Accounting doesn’t have the databases you use. And you have the best network. I knew you could find out what this guy’s doing.”

When all else fails, lay it on thick.

“You gotta live in the big city to know what’s going on. How’s life in the eastside wilds? Got a horse and buggy yet? Or should I send a haz-mat suit?”

Holly bristled. Eastern Washington wasn’t exactly a technical or radiological wasteland. “If I need either, I can probably find somebody who has one.” She changed the subject. “I ran across something interesting the other day. One of my clients has four companies, all registered in Wyoming, with the same person listed as the sole officer.”

“This officer isn’t a Washington local?”

“No. That was the second thing that pinged my radar. The owner, who is a Washington local, isn’t mentioned on the registration papers at all.”

“What business are the companies in?”

“I ran them through the Secretary of State’s web page. They’re listed as holding companies. All set up this year.”

“What bothers you specifically?”

Nothing she’d said really raised a red flag. It was the combination of events and the way she’d discovered the corporations that bothered her. “They may be legitimate. I can’t imagine the owner doing anything illegal. But as his accountant, it bothered me he didn’t tell me he set them up. And this guy, the officer, I ran him through the Wyoming state registry database and got over a thousand hits.”

“Hmm, a proxy.”

She heard the note of interest in his voice. He liked a mystery as much as she did. There were legitimate reasons for a company—its owners—to use a proxy, but a proxy could also be hidden behind. “For that many companies?”

“I remember reading something about it. Give me a day or two. I have some mop-up to do on our last transaction.”

“Thanks for looking into it. And for the info on Alders.” Devon had confirmed her initial impression of the guy.

“When are you coming to Seattle?”

It had been ages since she’d last crossed the mountains. All too soon, snow in Snoqualmie Pass would make the trip treacherous. “I’m working my butt off trying to stage Mother’s company. It doesn’t leave me much free time.”

“Next time you visit, you need to meet Erica.”

Visit? Erica? “Oh?”

“Erica Ruda. She started about a month ago.”

Started.

A month ago.

The words echoed and mocked. In this economy, the partners wouldn’t casually bring in additional people. There was only one possible reason they’d hire a new analyst.

A cold fist tightened around Holly’s chest, squeezed the air from her lungs.

The team had replaced her.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Devon chattered away, oblivious to Holly’s stunned silence. “Erica was great on our last transaction. She totally uncovered a partnership the target was using to hide losses.”

Spots danced at the edge of Holly’s vision. She clutched the receiver with one hand and the edge of the desk with the other.
The team filled my place?

She took a leave of absence. She didn’t quit. That was
her
spot. The position she was
going back
to.

Devon paused and she found her voice. “I’m glad to hear business is so good.”

“It was off with everything spooking Wall Street. Now that the market’s picked up, things will probably go crazy. Some players are looking to snap up companies whose stock’s in the crapper. Jeez, stock values were below book for a while there.”

Holly’s shoulders relaxed and her breath came easier. They were busy. Of course they needed more people. Hadn’t she suffered through that with the project work she was bringing in to Desert Accounting? Erica was an addition, not a replacement. “Sounds like I’ll be getting back at the right time.”

Devon’s pause was short, but she caught it.

“It’ll be great to see you,” he said.

She noticed the ambiguous phrasing. It was why he wasn’t a partner. He gave away too much in his tone and his expression.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Look, I heard Arashiro plans to call you. You have to make a choice.”

Her stomach cramped.

She wrestled the panic and held her voice steady. “Thanks for the heads up on the boss’s call. And for the info on Alders.”

“Sure.”

Don’t babble, cut it off.
“I have to run. A meeting to prep for. You know how it goes.”

“I’ll call if I find anything on the proxy guy,” Devon said.

Don’t call us, we’ll call you
.

She fumbled the receiver into place with a shaking hand. Trying to swallow the huge lump in her throat, she stared at the instrument. What if her boss said, “If you want to stay part of the team, you have to get back over here.”

He couldn’t call now. He promised her a year.

If she didn’t go back, she’d lose everything she’d worked so hard to achieve.

She’d given up friends, fun…dammit, she’d given up her
life
for that team. She’d put her career ahead of everything.

She
had
to go back.

But if she left, her mother would lose everything. The accounting firm…her livelihood.

How was she supposed to choose?

She could look for another position in Seattle later, but the team was the best. Going anywhere else would be an admission of defeat. She’d start in a hole and have to prove herself all over again. It would take dozens of deals before every attorney, broker, and peon quit thinking they could pull a fast one on her.

And for what? To make the partners richer? The team members were well paid, but it was a fraction of what the principals raked in.

She buried her face in her hands. What did she want?
Really
want? She’d always believed it was her career and everything that came with it. Challenge, respect, affluence. But it was all an illusion.

Step away and it vanished.

Remove the job and she had nothing.

Tears filled her eyes. Blindly, she grabbed a tissue.

Her independence amounted to nothing more than solitude. She’d end up an old lady at the senior center, recycling used greeting cards.

She dropped her hands and glared at the office around her. Why was she killing herself bailing out her parents, anyway? Her father deserted them. Her mother blew off an important meeting without explanation. Did they even care if Desert Accounting prospered?

Holly dragged in a deep breath and released it.

She
cared about the business. She’d done solid work for the clients, trained the staff to handle the more challenging assignments, and built the firm’s reputation. Other local companies were noticing.

What if she stayed?

She flattened her hands on the desk and stared straight ahead, stunned she’d even considered the possibility.

After a beat, she measured the pros and cons. The bookkeeping side of the business—her mother’s realm—brought in steady income, but it defined boredom. It was the project work that challenged her. Working with clients, getting to know them and their business needs, added a surprisingly satisfying aspect to her professional life. With the mergers and acquisitions team, the owners had simply been interchangeable faces eager to sell for the largest pile of dollars possible.

She shot to her feet. What was she doing even
thinking
about staying in Richland? She didn’t know for sure that her real job was in jeopardy. She was jumping to conclusions with no evidence to support the theory—the mark of a rank amateur.

Until her boss told her she no longer had a position with the team, she refused to worry about Erica or who did what on the latest transaction back in Seattle.