Return of the Dixie Deb (15 page)

“When did you receive notice of the audit?”

“In June. At first, I thought it was just routine, luck of the draw, right? But then they called me into the Atlanta office and showed me the records from the bank. There were all these huge deposits, money moving in and out of my account. I couldn’t begin to explain everything.”

“Your business accounts?”

“No, my personal e-account. I was stunned. It was just too much on top of everything else. I tried to find records, but everything was in a mess, clients leaving, Tim pulling out and deleting his files, me having to lay off people. I couldn’t understand it. I decided I’d just plead ignorance and throw myself on their mercy. You can see how far that got me.”

He was staring at her. She waited for him to speak.

“Kind of convenient for you to be the one suspected of money laundering, isn’t it? You have no idea about the sums moving in and out of your account?”

She made a face. “Money laundering?”

“That’s what the feds think. Certain amounts, certain patterns raise red flags for the government.”

“You make it sound like organized crime. Cartersville is real small.”

“Seems odd, doesn’t it? Tim Trueheart gets involved with the Wedding Belles mob and moves out just as this mysterious money shows up deposited in your name. When did deposits start showing up?”

“The last part of December and on into the new year. The I.R.S. showed me their records the first time I was called in. I was stunned. I went back home and tried to figure out what had happened, but…” She stopped. “I just felt stupid.”

“Tell me about the bridal place. Was it just the one store?”

“Right. It wasn’t like it was a real big business. Although Albertine and Pammy both drove new cars.”

“I bet. What was the password for your e-account?”

“Gators.”

He stared at her, letting his mouth fall open.

“Gators. From—”

“University of Florida. Jan, how hard do you think that would be to guess?”

“I, well, I wasn’t worried about it.”

“Someone who knew you could come up with it without much difficulty. Maybe somebody who had been close to you.”

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “Do you think this was done to get me in trouble?”

“That, or to get someone else out of trouble, to hide what was really going on. They could count on you being too distracted to kick up a fuss.” Mac drummed a tattoo on the table with his fingers. “I’d like to take a look at this bridal biz.”

“Wedding Belles?”

“Doesn’t it sound suspicious? Princess Pam stealing your faithless fiancé while you get in trouble with the I.R.S.?” He raised an eyebrow. “You in the mood for a field trip, lady?”

Chapter Twelve

He checked his watch and glanced over at Jan in the seat beside him.

“No police this time. So is it a go?” she asked.

From where they were parked in the darkened alley across from the one-story, yellow-brick building housing the Wedding Belles Bridal Salon, they had a perfect view of the street. Turning your dreams into memories, a sign in the window promised. The salon shared the building with a florist shop, probably to their mutual benefit. He’d located the security system and briefly shorted it out on a back window three times. The first two occurrences had brought a local sheriff’s cruiser by to check. After twenty minutes of watching, the third time had elicited no response.

“By now, the security company is probably putting it down to a faulty connection causing a short in the system. I don’t think they’re bothering to call it in to the police.”

“So do we go in now? Through the back?” She sat up, her hand on the door handle. Even in the dimness, he could detect a glitter in Jan’s eyes, an air of excitement. The shy, scared girl he’d met back in Gordon Andrews’ Atlanta office had been replaced by a real partner in crime.

“I don’t think jimmying the back window should be a problem from what I saw. Are you sure about this? I can go in by myself, Jan. You can wait out here.”

“We’re a team, remember? Besides, I’m the one familiar with things and I ought to get some kind of reward for all the time I wasted there. Not to mention the cash I dropped.”

He hesitated.

“Come on, I’m already wanted for bank robbery, tax fraud, and probably grand theft auto. What’s a little breaking and entering at this point?”

“Okay, Ma Barker. I’ll short out the alarm again and we’ll try the window. If the cops swing by to check, I want the back door to look normal.”

He opened his car door, letting it rest against the latch. He’d been around enough lawbreakers to begin thinking like one. Unfortunately, most criminals seemed to be longer on nerve than brains. Maybe that was the reason they consistently attracted the notice of the F.B.I. He took his time, evaluating the scene. The street was silent under the streetlights. Ragged clouds chased across the moon. He took a long breath. In the distance, a train whistle broke the silence. Jan moved up beside him. He nodded in the direction of the salon and slipped his hand around hers. They crossed the street quickly, feigning an air of casualness to anyone who might be watching. He pulled her over to look in the florist shop window. A car paused at the intersection down the street, turned, and went the other way. He waited until it was out of sight.

“Okay.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m going around to the back. You stand at the corner of the shop. Fake a cough or an asthma attack if we get company.”

He left Jan at the side of the building, away from the streetlight, and slipped around to the alley in back. There was a single window next to the rear door and trash dumpster. A furtive movement caught his eye. Spotted, a stray cat fled from the shadow of the dumpster and disappeared down the alley. With his pocketknife, he parted the security wires once more. He studied the window. As he had seen previously, it was a relatively simple matter to slide the point of his knife between the upper and lower panes and jiggle it back and forth until the clasp moved enough he could push the lower pane up.

He put his knife away and jogged over to the side of the building.

“Jan!”

She looked back his way and ran to where he was.

“Any traffic?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head.

“Okay, let’s go for it.”

She followed him around to the back window. He bent down and locked his hands together.

“Give me your foot.”

Jan stepped into the stirrup he made. He lifted her and watched as she swung her leg over the sill. He braced her butt with his hands as she pulled her other leg over and disappeared inside.

There were some advantages to the evening. It wasn’t an accident that he’d bought jeans a size smaller than she said she wore.

He flexed his hands, reaching upward and hoisting himself up and over the sill.

Once inside, he reached down to reconnect the wire, hoping somewhere a security guard was sighing and shaking his head as he watched his monitoring board.

“So far, so good.” He lowered the window and turned to Jan. “What’s the layout of this place?”

“I was never back in this part. It looks like a storeroom.”

“Yeah.” He moved carefully to where boxes were stacked and used his knife to pull open the flaps.

“Okay, I’m seeing business supplies, copy paper, toner. Looks like envelopes and stationery in this one. Anything on those shelves?”

“Not much. Coffee filters, sweetener, cups, paper goods. Some old catalogues in the bookcase. And here…” She pulled the lid off a plastic bin. “It looks like brochures and handouts for bridal shows, I’m guessing.”

He knelt to open a cupboard. “Cleaning supplies down here. Let’s move on. I don’t want to waste time we don’t have.”

She followed him out into a darkened corridor.

“Now over there is the business office.” She pointed at a closed door. “Up ahead is Albertine’s personal office where she met clients. The reception area is in front where Pammy had her desk. This whole other side is storage for the wedding dresses and gowns for all the other bridal party members when they come in.”

“Okay, why don’t we start back here in the business office? See if we can get a lead on anything underhanded going on. How many people worked here?”

“Two women in the business office. They’d been with Albertine for years I think.”

“What were their duties?” He pushed the door open. The small room was windowless with two desks, computer monitors, chairs, and a metal filing cabinet. A number of picture postcards were hanging on a bulletin board. From happy honeymooners? He flicked on the light.

“Making appointments, ordering, billing, keeping things on schedule. You know, setting up the catering, renting the reception halls, arranging for limousine service, checking that things are done by deadlines. There’s an enormous amount of details to keep on top of.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Makes me glad my sister and Jeff decided to get married in his mom’s backyard. That’s more my kind of thing—wedding cake on the deck and tubs of iced beer.”

He seated himself in the rollaway chair behind the first desk.

“Okay, I’ll start on this one, you take the other. Look for something with your name on it or the name of your business, anything that seems odd. Things like duplicate bank statements, billing that seems out of line.”

He quickly sorted through the drawers. He didn’t believe anything incriminating was likely to be found in an unlocked desk. He found office supplies, price guides, and a Rolodex of customer services. Looking over at Jan, he saw her replace a folder in the desk and shrug.

“I’m not finding anything unusual,” she said.

“Nothing here either. I’m going to take a look in the file cabinet.”

The top drawers were filled with manila folders. He quickly flipped through files labeled caterers, reception sites, lawn services, rental equipment, available clergy, honeymoon planning, outdoor venues. They all apparently contained what they purported. He shut the drawers and moved down to the lower ones.

“Okay, these seem to be just client files.” He pulled out one at random and sorted through the papers. “And it looks like there’s money to be made in the wedding business.”

Jan got up from her desk to watch. “You aren’t worried about leaving fingerprints?”

“At this point, it’s the least of our problems.” He replaced the folder, closed the drawer, and opened the bottom one. “In fact, I’d like to shake up the crew here and see what happens. Like kicking over an anthill. I wonder if these are just current clients. I’m not finding your name.”

She looked at what he was doing. “No, they’re more than that. I mean, look. Here’s Charlotte Sanders’ file. She worked at my office.” She pulled a folder out. “She was married on Sweetest Day last fall.”

“Do you know anyone else who used this place?”

“There was a girl from my gym. Debbie. What was her last name? Zimmerman? No, that was her fiancé. Zerkle maybe. I remember it was odd they were both Zs.”

“Nothing under either.” He closed the drawer. “What made the two of you different?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I can’t think of anything.”

“I want to take a look at the boss lady’s office. For all the business they seem to do here, this place is pretty small. Where do they work on the dresses?”

“Well, not here. The dresses are ordered from manufacturers and stored until needed, but any gowns that need major alterations, detailing, adding embellishments like beading or embroidery are sent away and worked on somewhere else.”

“Shall we move on?”

“I’m going to take a look in the storeroom and see if my dress is still there. I’d like to see what my money went for.”

He opened the door and glanced in the restrooms. A faint odor of cleaning solution hung in the air. He closed the door and moved on to what Jan had called Albertine’s private office. Twice the size of the one her office workers used, it was painted in muted pastels with stylized pictures of young brides on the walls. A large desk with a polished surface and a built-in bookcase unit stood at one end of the carpeted space with a love seat, armchairs, and a glass-topped table at the other. It looked like a comfortable place to meet clients. On a sidewall stood a liquor cabinet with crystal carafe and fluted glasses. For celebratory occasions?

Moonlight and faint streetlight came through the window. He’d have to take it slower here. They couldn’t risk a light. Outside, the silence seemed absolute.

The wastepaper baskets were empty. He sat down behind the desk, reached under, and popped the hidden latch to open the center drawer. Evidently, Albertine had a fondness for scented-ink pens, along with pink and mauve-tinted stationery, her initials elegantly embossed in the corner. There was nothing of interest in the drawer, except for a key she’d conveniently left that unlocked the side drawers. He opened the drawers, replaced the key where it had been, and pushed in the center drawer. It seemed to catch on something. Pulling it out again, he gently extracted a crumpled envelope. Empty, it had a P. O. Box return address and a foreign stamp.

Curious, he hadn’t run across anything similar. He chewed his lip, folded the envelope and stood, putting it in his pocket. He looked longingly at the computer on top the desk. He was willing to bet that was where the interesting correspondence would be found and also sure to be protected by a better password than Jan had come up with.

Albertine’s day planner was in a side drawer. Her old one for the previous year was stuck under it. Both seemed to consist mostly of notes about client appointments. He flipped over to scan the entries for the end of last December. December 28
th
, check dep., it read. There was the same notation again on the 29
th
. The thirtieth read call H.K. And on January 2
nd
Call Philip had been circled and underlined. Similar notations about Philip and H.K. continued in Albertine’s signature pink throughout the month. Some kind of ongoing problem?

He had closed the desk and was examining the bookcase unit when he heard the rustle of material. Jan was standing in the doorway, her hands full of a frothy, white fabric. Even in the dimness, he could tell she was upset.