Frankie's Back in Town (17 page)

F
RANCESCA WASN’T SURPRISED
to find Susanna, looking tired and anxious, in the reception area of Northstar’s corporate headquarters. Francesca had arrived in Chicago last evening and assumed Susanna had done the same. Because it was still the crack of dawn and she’d already spent two hours answering questions from her supervisors in all Northstar’s departments: Operations, Financial, Human Resources, Marketing, Planning and Development Services.

Her nerves were still jangling. Yet not a one of the executive had left her feeling interrogated. Neither had anyone implied that she’d fallen short in her duties anywhere along the way.

That was a plus. So was the fact that she hadn’t been sitting in the reception area waiting like Susanna. Her title had counted for something.

She was glad, too. Facing the firing squad was a lot better than worrying about facing the firing squad, and Susanna’s expression suggested that wait hadn’t been pleasant.

“They’re ready for you now, Susanna.” She forced a smile. “Good luck.”

There was really nothing else to say. She would have offered to wait and offer moral support. They might have commiserated together while awaiting their repeat performance with the board of directors tomorrow morning.

But Francesca knew Susanna wouldn’t have welcomed
the offer. Or any reminder of the events that had brought them together in such an unlikely way.

The last two names on the suspect list.

Who could have guessed they’d have such rotten luck?

Not in her wildest imagination, so she offered another smile as Susanna got to her feet, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her skirt and headed off to face the firing squad.

“Good luck,” Francesca said again then made her way down the long hallway to the exit.

She flagged a taxi and was soon in the warm, if not plush, interior watching the city pass by through steamy windows.

Hopefully Jack was doing exactly what he promised to do right now—figuring out who the real thief was. Before she and Susanna were replaced.

Francesca wouldn’t have minded commiserating right now. She’d never missed her friends in Phoenix more.

Kimberly would have suggested running together to exercise away her stress.

Judith would have let her rant and rant and rant then offered some profoundly practical advice.

Stephanie would have told her to stop worrying and meet her after work for a beer.

Just the thought made her smile. She was so making time to call all her friends as soon as she finished the interrogation with the board. She’d been so buried at work that she’d been letting all the important things in life slide. Quality time with family. With friends. She needed a good dose of familiar right now to ground her in reality. Identity theft and Jack Sloan were
not
reality.

She sent Gabrielle a text message to find out how she was holding up after her slumber party at Nonna’s.

Resting her head against the seat, Francesca closed her
eyes. Why couldn’t she get Jack out of her head? She’d already made this decision, the
right
decision.

She shouldn’t be obsessing about Jack. Again.

So what if he made her remember there was a whole part of her that had gotten buried a long time ago beneath a failing marriage. The part of her that wasn’t a mother, or a career person, or a granddaughter, or a student, or one of the many other roles she’d played through the years.

So what if he made her notice that she was a woman? A woman who’d once known what it felt like to be desired by a man.

That didn’t change the fact that she should be huddled up on the sofa with Gabrielle right now, wrapping up a twelve-hour marathon of extended version
Lord of the Rings
movies.

Maybe this trip to Chicago was a blessing in disguise. A little time away from the scene of the crime—no pun intended—would help her rein in her wayward thoughts.

And they were seriously wayward.

This was all Nonna’s fault, too. Darn her. If not for Nonna and her relentless desire to pass on the china, Francesca could have kept ignoring the fact that she was a living, breathing woman with needs and desires, no matter how buried.

S
USANNA ENTERED THE CONFERENCE
room knowing one thing and one thing only—she had to keep her job. She’d invested too many years with this company, had established a reputation as an honest employee with a strong work ethic. Even in the face of Skip’s illness, she’d done her job. She was the sole breadwinner in the Adams family and her children depended on her.

“Susanna, come on in.” Gerald rose and circled the table to greet her. “Thanks for making the trip.”

She exchanged pleasantries with the others around the
table and caught up on family news about spouses and children growing up too quickly. An assistant served coffee. They chatted about how the residents were settling into the new facility and how Bluestone’s community had embraced the lodge. By the time Gerald said, “Now let’s talk about this nasty business with the police.” Susanna’s anxiety had nearly melted away and the knot in her stomach had almost disappeared.

She explained events as she understood them from the trouble with Captain Hickman’s wallet to Jack’s handling of the investigation. She answered questions thoroughly and gave honest opinions and played the personal card for all it was worth.

“Susanna, you’ve been with the company a long time,” Gerald said. “You’re familiar with our standards and how we run the Northstar properties. So we’d appreciate knowing a little more about the work environment at Greywacke Lodge.”

Susanna knew exactly what Gerald was looking for—information about the only variable in this equation.

Frankie.

Squelching an uneasy feeling, Susanna reminded herself that it was her against Frankie. And she wasn’t going to feel guilty for protecting her job and reputation. Susanna wasn’t stupid. She’d known Karan had been caught up in the drama about Frankie—as usual—but Karan was also right about one thing.

Could Susanna afford to ignore the facts?

She would never have thought Jack would play favorites, but something was clearly going on between him and Frankie.

Frankie had a head start at convincing everyone in this room of her innocence.

Taking a deep breath, Susanna told the bosses about the
professional and capable work environment under Frankie’s direction, adding that people had been pleasantly surprised when Frankie had returned to town as Greywacke Lodge’s director.

She didn’t hang Frankie out to dry. That would have been unfair since Frankie did run a tight ship. But Susanna did present the unique aspects of the situation, offered the personal history and hoped her loyalty to the company would count for something.

One crime. Two suspects.

She wasn’t guilty, which meant Frankie must be.

J
ACK PAUSED OUTSIDE THE DOOR
and inhaled deeply to collect himself. His course of action had already been decided when he’d left the station house yesterday. He’d had all night to consider his plan, so he wasn’t sure why his heart raced now. He’d waited to take the red-eye out of New York, buying himself an entire night to realize he wasn’t going to accomplish what he wanted unless he took a few risks.

He knocked and waited.

“Who is it?” came the familiar voice.

“Jack.”

A pause before the door flung wide.

“Jack?” Frankie stared at him, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. Her eyes went from surprised to sparkling with pleasure before she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Jack couldn’t get over how his entire body seemed to exhale the unaccustomed tension at the sight of her. How much he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her in greeting. He had to question whether he’d been motivated to this particular course of action because he’d wanted to see her, to convince her to take a few risks of her own.

“Hello, Francesca,” he said. “Officially, I’ve come to bring Susanna in for questioning. Unofficially, I’m buying time, and I need your help.”

Emotions played across her beautiful face. Relief. Surprise. Disapproval, too, he thought. Because he’d followed her to Chicago or because of his news about Susanna?

“If you’re telling me Susanna is guilty, Jack, I still have trouble believing it.”

“Why?”

She shook her head, expression set.
Definitely
disapproval. “I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t feel it. Susanna’s a strong employee. Competent. Resourceful. Admittedly, she’s not particularly friendly—to me, anyway—but her people work hard for her. I’ve been in management a long time, and I can’t believe she’d inspire that sort of loyalty without good reason.”

“Not crazy,” he said softly. “But if criminals were easy to spot, I’d be able to take more vacations.”

“I’m not wrong about this.”

He understood gut feelings, and he also knew her history with Susanna. And was impressed by Frankie’s sense of fair play. She didn’t let the past cloud her present. Her conviction and concern were such integral parts of the woman he was getting to know—a woman who cared.

“You don’t have to sell me.” He glanced over her shoulder into the room beyond. “Mind if I come in? I’d like to talk.”

She swung away from the door in a fluid stride, motioning him in. Dressed in business clothes sans the jacket, she looked so beautiful. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you standing in the hallway. I’m just surprised to see you.”

And pleased, too. She might be resisting for all she was worth, but she was definitely pleased.

“What do you need?” she asked. “I’ll help however I can.”

He knew she would. Simple. No nonsense. He liked that about her, too.

“Want something to drink? Coffee, maybe?”

“No, thanks.”

He watched with appreciation as she toed off her pumps, sank onto the couch and curled her legs beneath her. Shrugging out of his coat, he sat in a chair across from her, not needing proximity to distract him when he was already so preoccupied with the fact she was no longer his suspect, and he could ethically begin the campaign to overcome her objections.

“We’re ready to start building our case,” he began. “I bought some time by coming here. But I can’t interfere with due process, either, which means I’ve got to come up with another suspect before we head home.”

So leaning forward, arms over his knees, he closed the distance between them. “We’ve cleared everyone on your property, but there’s got to be someone else. I’m missing something. What can you tell me about Susanna’s work? Specifics.”

“She’s internal control. She handles all the training and monitoring of our community-level accounting staff. Like I said, her people work hard for her. I haven’t had a complaint. No drama. No aggravation. Not in the six months since the lodge opened. She runs a tight ship.”

“Walk me through her day-to-day duties.”

“She handles month-end control and all the financial reporting for the board of directors. She’s responsible for the annual budget and tax preparation. She looks for ways to maintain and cut expenditures.”

Massaging his temples, Jack racked his brain for details in the seemingly never-ending stream of data he’d reviewed since the start of the investigation. “Northstar must have someone who reviews the financial statements from their properties.”

“Of course they do.” She frowned. “But they’re oversight.
They don’t deal with the specifics that cross Susanna’s desk. She’s the financial officer for one property. Northstar’s financial department oversees the reporting on all the properties they manage. We’re talking about annual project costs of about two billion dollars annually. I researched this company thoroughly before making my move, and know for a fact they tailor services to more than senior-living communities. They manage hospitals, universities…they’re the industry leaders in management services. The financial department makes sure numbers from all those interests add up.”

“So you’re telling me it’s not likely that anyone in their financial department would have the sort of information they’d need about your residents to establish fraudulent credit card accounts and bank loans?”

“I don’t see how. Susanna and her department bill for twelve hundred units at Greywacke Lodge. Northstar’s financial department must oversee…ohmigosh, I don’t have a clue. But it would have to be at least thirty thousand units for their senior-living division alone. And that number would be from over a year ago when I did my research. They’ve probably acquired more properties since.”

She met his gaze steadily. “Northstar’s financial department is the top of the food chain. And unless I’m really off base, I don’t see how it would be possible to handle the personal information about residents on so many properties. I know from my own reports, Northstar has me filter out the minutiae. I only send the bottom line.”

Jack thrust a hand through his hair, considering what she said. “Then Northstar is another dead end—”

“Wait a minute,” Frankie said suddenly. “Do you know who might have access to the details Susanna has?”

He shook his head.

“Our investment banking firm. Rockport.”

“What do they do?”

“They’re a fiduciary for retirement funds.” She met his gaze, growing more animated as the idea gained speed. “Some of their divisions deal exclusively with corporate investors for the project costs, but other divisions focus on private investments for individual retirement funds. They’re the ones who make it possible to liquidate assets and buy into communities like Greywacke Lodge. I dealt with them to get Nonna’s financial affairs in order since we hadn’t sold her house yet.”

“Rockport Investment Banking.” He was already reaching into his pocket for his cell. “Perfect. It’s a place to start. Excuse me. Let me make a call.”

She watched curiously as he flipped open his cell and speed dialed Randy, who picked up on the second ring. “Yo. What’s up?”

“Randy, I want you to start running Rockport Investment Banking. I want to know who in their financial department has access to the personal data for Greywacke Lodge. And while you’re at it, check out the other properties they deal with. I also want to know if anyone else is having similar troubles. Pull in whoever you need to help. I’ll start inquiries here.”

“Damn it, Jack.” Randy’s annoyance blasted over the line loud and clear. “I thought you were bringing our girl in.”

“Not if the case is a lot bigger than we suspected. You wouldn’t want to miss a golden opportunity, would you?”

Silence on the other end. Then a heavy sigh. “Where are you starting?”

“Clearinghouse Alert and Auto Query.” These features would put Jack in contact with law-enforcement agencies nationwide and eliminate the need for repeat searches. “We need answers fast.”