Taking Stock (15 page)

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Authors: C J West

Tags: #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: Taking Stock
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“We could have gone a bit easier.”

“I didn’t mean to upset him, but questions need to be asked.”

“The guy’s a star. The last thing I need is someone souring his attitude. There’s no reason to accuse him of anything. He’s a good kid. He answered the phone when Johnson called. He doesn’t have anything more to do with your investigation than that.”

Sarah raised her hands in submission.

“Message received. I’ll go easier next time,” she said.

“This is probably a simple mistake or a software bug.”

Sarah was tired of hearing that. “I don’t think it’s a mistake.”

“We’re only human down here. We process thousands of transactions. Once in a while, we get it wrong.”

“What if you didn’t
?
Brenda
n’s your best rep, right
?
He was the only one to touch the Johnson account in December. So what if he did everything right
?
The problem has to be upstairs.”

Gregg seemed pleased with the idea if only to take the spotlight off
Brenda
n. “There’s only one person to go to with something like this, but I’ve already taken this problem to her once.”

 

 

Chapter Twenty-two
 

Sarah followed Gregg to the elevator and up to the twenty-second floor. The morning had been a disaster. She came off immature and self-absorbed and now Gregg looked at her as dismissively as she looked at Stan. Reversing that impression would be a feat, but she vowed to give it her best. He was so much more than she first thought. The rugged looks camouflaged a depth she hadn’t expected in a younger guy. Totally grounded and at ease with himself, he was as much a parent as he was a manager to the kids that worked for him. His maturity and intelligence were as attractive as anything she’d seen in him on her first day.

Gregg led the way in, weaved around the cubicles and ended up outside a dark office. He looked surprised to find the office empty at
10:30
a.m
.
It didn’t look like she was coming in, but Gregg wasn’t ready to leave. He asked an older man if he’d seen her. He hadn’t.

They returned to the elevators and he explained that
Eric
a was there night and day, six, sometimes seven days a week. Sarah asked if there was someone else who could help them and his expression immediately turned grim. “These guys don’t care what happens downstairs, least of all Brad Foster.”

“Isn’t he in charge of IT
?

Gregg closed the lobby door before answering. “He’s the biggest problem up here.
Eric
a worked–”

“Did I hear my name
?

A woman stepped off the elevator smiling at Gregg. She was skinny and gorgeous, one of those women who could wear a boxy pantsuit and make it look sexy without trying. A line of drooling men probably followed her whenever she left the building. Gregg lit up and Sarah’s hopes plunged. She wished the SlimFast had lived up to its name.

“Slacking again I see,” he said.

“As usual.”

Gregg made introductions and begged
Eric
a’s help with their problem. She led them back to her office with apologies for arriving late. The room was twice the size of Sarah’s with the back wall made up entirely of windows. Sarah gazed over the southern part of the city and
South Boston
beyond. A slice of the harbor peeked out at the extreme left.
Eric
a was barely visible behind stacks of paper and piles of manila folders. Greg stood, leaving the only chair not currently doubling as a shelf for Sarah. She checked her watch reflexively as she sat; not consciously reading the hands since she knew it was after
ten thirty
.

“I didn’t realize you had it so good up here in IT.” Her tone sounded nasty even to her.

Gregg looked as embarrassed as he did when she pressed
Brenda
n for answers he didn’t have. Crestfallen, she knew he was going to distance himself from her as soon as they left this office.

Eric
a was unfazed. “When you work ninety hours a week they don’t mind if you come in late once in a while.” She turned to Gregg with a wide grin. “Actually I just woke up an hour ago.” She seemed proud.

“That’s about a week’s worth of sleep for you isn’t it
?

“Do you have an idea about keeping me up at night
?
” The suggestion in her voice was unmistakable. Sarah would have given up hope, but Gregg ignored the implication and kept the focus on work.

“It’s good for a few nights at least.”

He launched into a recap of the Johnsons’ problem. He reminded
Eric
a of his argument with Brad and his visit to ask for her help. She shuffled through a few piles on the desktop, embarrassed she hadn’t looked into the problem sooner then apologized for losing the documents he’d given her.

Eric
a’s team had just implemented a system that tracked these transactions so this problem was her responsibility now. Gregg seemed relieved that she had official standing to help, but alarm bells started going off for Sarah.
Eric
a fit the profile of a successful embezzler. She was responsible for the troubled system and she’d been asked to help and done nothing. She had longevity and influence within the company, something Sarah’s instructors cited as critical. Gregg and his colleagues brought their problems directly to her, giving her a chance to see the dust she kicked up as she tramped around the company databases and took money from unsuspecting customers. She didn’t look the part, but she had all the right qualifications.

There was an awkward pause with both
Eric
a and Gregg looking at her, Gregg with his hand outstretched. She hadn’t heard what was said, but assumed he wanted the letter. She handed him a copy and they shifted focus to it immediately.

“Sounds like he’s got a legitimate gripe,”
Eric
a said when she was about halfway through.

“We paid him. Now we want to know what went wrong.”

Gregg handed her the phone bill and she placed it on her keyboard with the letter. She stood up and walked around the desk. “I’ve got some time between projects, I’ll start digging.”

Sarah backed out toward the door.

Eric
a stopped a foot from Gregg and rested a hand above his elbow. “I can work every night this week but one. The company’s buying me dinner if I recall.”

“That’s right. When should I pick you up
?

“I didn’t realize you two were dating,” Sarah spat from the doorway.

“It’s not a date. The company is saying thanks for all the hours I put in on the fund services system. Gregg volunteered to be my escort because I’m chronically unattached and he’s incredibly chivalrous.”

“It could be a date,” Gregg pleaded.

“We couldn’t date. You’re too sweet. We’d both want to get married and that would be a disaster.”

Gregg froze. Devastated, hopeful or maybe just confused.

Sarah led the way into the hall, thanked
Eric
a, and replayed the conversation in her head as they walked to the elevator.

When the doors closed they were alone.

“You didn’t tell me you two were close.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Really. If I’d known there were going to be that many sparks I’d have worn safety glasses.”

Gregg didn’t answer. He watched the display flash ‘21.’

“If you two want to keep it quiet that’s fine with me. All I care about is what happened to Mr. Johnson’s money,” she lied. “The whole thing does look suspicious, though. She’s responsible for the system and it seems like everyone brings their problems to her. It doesn’t look good from an internal audit perspective. If she was mucking around, no one would ever be the wiser.”

Sarah stepped off the elevator and looked back.

Gregg was livid.  

“If she was mucking around
?
She’s in control of that system because she’s the best programmer up there. She came from client services. She knows what we’re up against. How can you fault her for being helpful
?

“I’m not accusing her of anything. It doesn’t look good, that’s all.”

Gregg let go of the ‘open’ button and stomped off the elevator.

“You don’t get it, do you
?
There is no one else. Those guys up there don’t care what we need. If Brad knew how much she helped us, he’d make her life even more miserable.”

“Those two don’t get along
?

The story was getting deeper by the second.

“No one gets along with Brad unless they have something he wants.”

Eric
a was fitting the profile better and better. She couldn’t have been closer to these problems or have a better opportunity to cover them up. Gregg might do or say anything she asked. Sarah’s day had been a personal disaster, but a professional boon.

Chapter Twenty-three
 

The bartender rushed off with the fresh twenty leaving Gregg to face his reflection over the array of bottles against the glass. A fresh haircut and a clean shave wrapped in his favorite royal blue shirt faced him meekly. He looked good save the timid eyes. His commanding presence had been beaten down by rejection after rejection. The eyes knew what they were headed for even if their master didn’t. Two years ago they’d had this conversation and she’d turned him away. He’d been dropping hints that he’d ask again for weeks. So far all he’d done is stiffen her resolve, but when he wasn’t pressing, she dropped hints of her own. She feigned innocence, but there was feeling behind her offhand comments. She wanted him close, but not too close, bouncing in the margin between friendship and romance. He was tired of bouncing. It was time to settle things. The two shots of tequila on the bar would give him the courage.

Gregg gulped the first shot. The fiery liquid burned its way down his throat and into his belly. The fumes lit up his nostrils until he stanched the heat with an even larger gulp of water. The bartender had taken pity and filled both shots to the rim. Did he know what Gregg was about to face
?
Had dozens of men sat here building up their courage before journeying across the street and up her stairs
?
The bartender had probably never seen her himself, but he’d surely seen the devastated results.

Gregg tipped the second shot, chased it down, and collected his change. Steadily out the door, he faced her apartment. The alcohol would kick in soon and help him blurt out what had to be said. Another drink or two at dinner and he’d be ready. She might not admit it, but the chemistry was there. Could he really give up if she turned him away again
?
He crossed the street wondering how he’d feel about all the lost time. Would he forgive himself
?
Would he lament years lost
?
Or was this the greatest pursuit of his life
?
Each step siphoned his resolve until he crested the stairs and faced her door. He rapped gently and the door swung open.

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