Chapter 10 #2
Armando was a keen accountant, but technology was not his friend.
He was competent with Word, Excel, and the accounting program they used for financials, but creating a program for tracking and reporting file movement was light-years beyond him.
Dante was the only one in their small office who had the skill set to do it.
And he knew she was the one working on the current Moresco matter.
The betrayal stung, but she understood it. Dante’s primary loyalty was to his family.
Armando sighed. “Lily is a known factor. She follows the rules, does what she’s told, and doesn’t think outside the box.
She’s loyal and predictable. That’s why she works here and will continue to work here.
Mr. Moresco is an exacting individual. He—and his father before him—have used this firm for more than forty years.
I’ve assured him complete privacy and discretion.
My word is my pride. I simply cannot and will not have an employee I don’t trust. An employee who could ruin what I’ve spent my life building because she won’t do her job within the perfectly reasonable parameters I’ve set. ”
“Do you want an explanation, or do you just want me to pack up my office and go?”
She hadn’t meant to sound so curt, but her patience was waning.
Yes, she appreciated this job. Yes, Armando had been wonderful to her.
But his rules were not perfectly reasonable.
Her other job had no restrictions on accessing paper copies.
Review of original records and a certain amount of confirmatory checking of reported numbers against invoices and other original source documents was actually required when preparing audited financial statements or conducting a forensic accounting analysis.
Prohibiting that practice was not reasonable.
She was a hard-working, intelligent, thorough accountant.
She was always on time, worked late when needed, and never complained.
Armando was acting like he’d caught her stealing from the sunshine fund Lily used to pay for birthday cakes and holiday parties instead of treating her like a valued employee who had simply been trying to do the best job she could.
Yes, she hadn’t followed his silly rule about not reviewing paper files without permission, but she thought the rule was in place to avoid billing clients for busy work.
Armando’s eyes narrowed. “I expected you to be more remorseful.”
“And I expected you to trust me and raise any questions or concerns with an open mind. Instead, you set this meeting with the clear intention of intimidating me and came in here playing judge, jury, and executioner.”
Annoyance laced her voice, but she didn’t care.
The meeting was pointless. She was covered in sweat, and her wig felt like scratchy wool.
At this point, she wished he’d just hurry up and fire her so she could go to the bathroom, put a cool, wet towel on her face and neck, and scratch every inch of her irritating scalp.
An odd sense of calm settled around her, and the room suddenly felt a bit cooler.
If Armando wanted to hear her perspective, he’d ask.
If he didn’t, he’d fire her. She’d be embarrassed.
Davis would be pissed. But life would go on.
This wasn’t life or death. She’d been there and done that. This was just a job.
As minutes passed in silence, Armando’s expression slowly shifted from indignation to professorial contemplation. Finally, he broke the silence.
“All right, explain it to me.”
This would be her only chance to convince Armando she hadn’t been trying to do anything wrong. That her intentions were pure. That she had only been trying to do the best work she could.
“You’re always saying Mr. Moresco is the firm’s most important client. I was super nervous. I really love working here. You’ve been so good to me.”
This was not a good start. Nerves sent her thoughts jumping all over the place.
She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples, letting her nails scratch at the edges of her wig just a bit.
For some reason, scratching her infernally itchy head always calmed her.
She started over, trying to present a more linear sequence of events.
“When you told me you were giving me the Girard warehouse to work on, I knew it was a show of faith on your part. I was excited but apprehensive. I didn’t want to disappoint you, so I wanted everything to be perfect.
I couldn’t start working on the project until Lily scanned all the invoices into the system.
While I was waiting, I thought it would make sense to review the Penrose warehouse financials since it’s the most recent Moresco project that’s similar.
I thought taking a quick look at the invoices, payables list, and financials would get me acquainted with how you do things.
That way, I’d be able to hit the ground running as soon as Lily finished. But then...”
“But then what?”
How did she explain without sounding ridiculous?
She released a long, settling breath. “My brain works in an odd way. Sometimes, it will notice something, but the observation sits in the back of my mind instead of coming to the front. Almost like when you wake up, and you know you were dreaming, but you can’t remember what the dream was about.
The images are there, but you just can’t reach them. ”
Armando was looking at her like she was an alien.
Just stick to the facts.
“When I started work on the Girard warehouse financials, my mind kept turning to the Penrose numbers, like it was telling me that there was some important piece of information in there that I had seen and not processed. Like something was wrong.”
“Are you saying you thought I made a mistake on the Penrose financials?” Armando’s tone was more confused than offended.
She shook her head, frustrated that she wasn’t being clear.
“No. No. I didn’t think you made a mistake.
I just had this sensation that something was off with the Girard numbers, and that something I’d seen in the Penrose financials was the key to figuring it out.
It was a gut instinct that wouldn’t go away.
I should have forced myself to ignore it. ”
“But you didn’t ignore it. You tried to figure out what was bothering you,” Armando finished her thought for her.
She nodded. “I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some crucial piece of information in the Penrose files that was relevant to the Girard warehouse financials.”
Armando closed his eyes, slid his glasses down, and pressed his hand to his forehead. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in the conference room with her.
Maybe she should suggest an espresso. With a touch of brandy.
After a moment, he opened his eyes and readjusted his glasses. “That doesn’t make any sense. The projects are completely independent. They have nothing to do with each other.”
“Exactly!”
Again, he looked at her as if she’d just emerged from a spaceship. “Did it?”
She was baffled. “Did what do what?”
“Did looking at the paper files for the Penrose warehouse and Girard warehouse, both of which you weren’t supposed to have access to, help you figure out the problem?
“I think so.” She could barely hear her own words over the sound of her heart, which was as loud as a teenager blasting rap.
“And?” That one word was needle-sharp.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
“Have you been to both warehouses?” she asked.
“Yes. I make it a point to visit every construction project when it’s completed. Sal is quite proud of his accomplishments. Visiting the completed buildings is good for client relations.”
“Are there any elevators in the Penrose warehouse or the Girard warehouse?”
His eyebrows winged up. “Elevators?”
“Yes. Elevators.”
“No. They are standard single-story warehouses. I’ve been inside both of them multiple times. I assure you, there is no elevator in either.”
Weary irritation laced his tone. She needed to get to the punchline.
“When I decided to give up trying to figure out what was stuck in the back of my brain, I thought about using the elevator to return the files.” She fought to keep her hands in her lap.
“And I had the ‘aha’ moment. I remembered seeing an invoice in the Penrose files for an elevator. I hunted through the files and found it. It was for almost $600,000.”
“Are you certain?” he asked.
She was a hundred percent certain.
“Absolutely.” She paused. “I’m pretty sure there’s an elevator invoice in the Girard files, too. I never got to look for it, because I bumped into Lily. I didn’t want to get in trouble, so I decided to stop looking.”
Color leached from Armando’s burnished skin. He angled his head toward the files on the credenza.
“Show me.”