breath and looked around, trying to suppress her anger. His office was surprisingly neat. She had to catch herself from smiling as she noticed a mini-basketball hoop suctioned to the wall. Then she noticed her painting up on his wall. Her heart tapped out a double rhythm and she turned back to see him regarding her carefully.
“It, um, it looks great here...,” she stammered. It was unnerving to think a small part of her shared this office with Alex every day. She poured her soul into her paintings—each one felt like a living, breathing entity to her. She fought to get her bearings and smoothed her pencil skirt in a nervous gesture, as if to remind herself that she was still fully clothed despite how exposed she felt.
“So, what were we talking about?” Allison asked, drawing a blank on the earlier thread of the conversation.
“You look spooked—are you okay?” Alex asked.
“I’m fine, really, just exhausted with the extra workload, nothing more,” she turned to leave.
“I’m going home next weekend for my mother’s sixty-fifth birthday party. You’re welcome to join me,” Alex said.
“What?” Oh right—Emily’s brilliant idea, she remembered. She felt panicked and vulnerable and wanted to leave the office at once, but she forced herself to smile. “Yes, of course. I’ll get back to you on that.”
****
She passed by Brian Costello's office and suddenly realized the CFO had sent her an email earlier asking her to stop by when she had a free moment. The door was ajar, and she tentatively poked her head in while knocking.
"Oh, Ms. Ross. I'm so glad you're here," he whispered. "I have an important and rather delicate matter to discuss with you." He said this as he walked around behind her and closed the door firmly. "Please excuse the cloak and dagger routine, but the walls have ears."
Allison wondered if he had any more hackneyed phrases up his sleeve because her patience was worn thin. Alex had her very much on edge.
"Shortly before your father's passing I came across some accounting discrepancies. I never had the opportunity to fully discuss them with him, but in light of the recent events, it seemed prudent to bring them to your attention. The amount didn't add up to anything major, a few thousand here and there, nothing to raise any red flags."
Allison mentally groaned. "What do you mean? Do we need a new accounting program or is someone embezzling money?"
"Well, it seemed as if someone was cooking the books and benefitting from his own largesse. It was trivial stuff; however, the trail did lead directly to Bradley. This frankly strikes me as a little odd, seeing as he made no attempt made to cover his tracks."
"Well, he's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed," Allison said. As she heard her own words, she feared for her sanity and was anxious to end the conversation. "What steps should we take to look into the matter, Brian?"
"It seems to have stopped with your father's death," he said simply.
"Don't tell me you're implying my father embezzled funds from his own..."
"No, no, of course not. I'm only saying that the amounts were negligible, totaling fifteen thousand dollars in all. Since it has stopped anyway, I suggest perhaps having a talk with Bradley and seeing if you can shake anything out of him."
"I'd like to shake some sense into him, but I don't think talking to him is going to reveal anything. Are there any other solutions?"
"We could always call in a forensic accountant. But, that means he'd freeze the company's finances and then if anything suspicious would turn up, the police would have to be contacted. They in turn would seize the computers of all the involved parties and in my opinion, that minuscule amount of money in a business this size can easily be chalked up as miscellaneous funds and none the wiser."
"So," she took a deep breath. "You're ultimately suggesting I do nothing."
"Correct."
"Well, Brian, this has been illuminating. I appreciate your having such
“It, um, it looks great here...,” she stammered. It was unnerving to think a small part of her shared this office with Alex every day. She poured her soul into her paintings—each one felt like a living, breathing entity to her. She fought to get her bearings and smoothed her pencil skirt in a nervous gesture, as if to remind herself that she was still fully clothed despite how exposed she felt.
“So, what were we talking about?” Allison asked, drawing a blank on the earlier thread of the conversation.
“You look spooked—are you okay?” Alex asked.
“I’m fine, really, just exhausted with the extra workload, nothing more,” she turned to leave.
“I’m going home next weekend for my mother’s sixty-fifth birthday party. You’re welcome to join me,” Alex said.
“What?” Oh right—Emily’s brilliant idea, she remembered. She felt panicked and vulnerable and wanted to leave the office at once, but she forced herself to smile. “Yes, of course. I’ll get back to you on that.”
****
She passed by Brian Costello's office and suddenly realized the CFO had sent her an email earlier asking her to stop by when she had a free moment. The door was ajar, and she tentatively poked her head in while knocking.
"Oh, Ms. Ross. I'm so glad you're here," he whispered. "I have an important and rather delicate matter to discuss with you." He said this as he walked around behind her and closed the door firmly. "Please excuse the cloak and dagger routine, but the walls have ears."
Allison wondered if he had any more hackneyed phrases up his sleeve because her patience was worn thin. Alex had her very much on edge.
"Shortly before your father's passing I came across some accounting discrepancies. I never had the opportunity to fully discuss them with him, but in light of the recent events, it seemed prudent to bring them to your attention. The amount didn't add up to anything major, a few thousand here and there, nothing to raise any red flags."
Allison mentally groaned. "What do you mean? Do we need a new accounting program or is someone embezzling money?"
"Well, it seemed as if someone was cooking the books and benefitting from his own largesse. It was trivial stuff; however, the trail did lead directly to Bradley. This frankly strikes me as a little odd, seeing as he made no attempt made to cover his tracks."
"Well, he's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed," Allison said. As she heard her own words, she feared for her sanity and was anxious to end the conversation. "What steps should we take to look into the matter, Brian?"
"It seems to have stopped with your father's death," he said simply.
"Don't tell me you're implying my father embezzled funds from his own..."
"No, no, of course not. I'm only saying that the amounts were negligible, totaling fifteen thousand dollars in all. Since it has stopped anyway, I suggest perhaps having a talk with Bradley and seeing if you can shake anything out of him."
"I'd like to shake some sense into him, but I don't think talking to him is going to reveal anything. Are there any other solutions?"
"We could always call in a forensic accountant. But, that means he'd freeze the company's finances and then if anything suspicious would turn up, the police would have to be contacted. They in turn would seize the computers of all the involved parties and in my opinion, that minuscule amount of money in a business this size can easily be chalked up as miscellaneous funds and none the wiser."
"So," she took a deep breath. "You're ultimately suggesting I do nothing."
"Correct."
"Well, Brian, this has been illuminating. I appreciate your having such
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