Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
I’m going to be stiff for days.
The thought flashed through Rosemary’s mind as she leaned back, gingerly stretching out one cramped leg and then the other.
Thank goodness she’d worn pants today, or her frequent shifting and stretching would be showing parts that were not work-appropriate.
Not that Armando or Dante would even notice.
Dante only tore his eyes away from his laptop when he went to the basement to bring up more files, and like her, Armando’s head was buried in paper.
Paper was everywhere.
She had claimed a small piece of real estate in the corner of Armando’s office when they’d carried in all the files from the conference room.
He’d said he wanted more privacy while discussing what she’d found.
He went positively gray when she showed him the invoice for the elevator at the Penrose warehouse.
That had kicked off the whirlwind of figuring out how deep the hole went.
Armando had called Dante in to conduct some electronic sleuthing.
Rosemary’s computer skills were good, but Dante was a wizard.
Since the scanned invoices were PDFs, and the various programs for payables contained limited data points, it was a coin toss as to what results the electronic records would yield.
Tackling the paper files with Armando while Dante handled the electronic ones seemed like the most efficient approach.
Clear space had consistently dwindled as Dante brought in additional files throughout the day.
Now, every inch of Armando’s boat-sized desk, guest chairs, black leather couch, and glass-and-chrome coffee table were covered in a sea of creamy yellow manilla folders, stark white invoices, with some blue and green ones mixed in, and burgundy Redweld file folders.
Her stomach growled, the sound loud in the pin-drop quiet room. They’d worked through lunch, grabbing drinks and snacks from the gelateria. The sky had transitioned from bright blue to rose to the bluish purple of springtime dusk.
Armando dropped his forearms onto his desk with a thud. “It’s time we called it a day. My eyes are going blurry. Dante and I will pick this back up tomorrow.”
“I can help too,” she quickly offered. She didn’t want Armando battling the paper stacks solo.
“You won’t be here. You’re on vacation.”
She blinked a few times, eyes gritty from hours of names, numbers, and spreadsheets.
Vacation. The day had taken such a crazy turn that she’d completely forgotten she was supposed to be leaving for vacation today.
A few weeks ago, Armando had insisted she schedule her carryover vacation days from last year before they expired at the end of the month.
She couldn’t even remember if she’d put the time off in their work system.
She’d figure that out later. Right now, there were more important matters at hand.
“I can’t leave you with this mess.”
“You most certainly can.” As if sensing the argument on the tip of her tongue, Armando added, “This isn’t open to discussion. You’re going on your vacation. I insist.”
Armando’s reminder about her trip immediately turned her thoughts to Sage’s texts last night. They were branded into her brain.
What the hell were you thinking inviting a complete stranger on vacation?
You barely know this guy. What if he’s a serial killer? Or a rapist?
You’re taking this live life to the fullest shit too far. Living fully doesn’t mean being stupid!
Do you want to die?
After the last one, she’d set her phone on Do Not Disturb.
She was done being micromanaged by her sister.
Yes, Sage had lived and worked in France, while Rosemary had never left the tri-state area.
Yes, Sage had gone away to college and worked in gritty strip clubs, while she had attended all her university classes virtually and had only one brief job before this one.
There was no arguing that Sage had more life experience, but that didn’t give her sister the right to run her life.
But really, what the hell had Rosemary been thinking? Or had she even been thinking at all?
She’d invited Aleksei on impulse last night after Sage called, apologizing, saying she and Ryker wouldn’t be back for a few more days.
She’d been disappointed but not surprised.
There had been complications with Christian’s appendectomy, so the doctors had to do it the old-fashioned way instead of laparoscopically.
Ryker was a lot like Sage when it came to his sibling—way overprotective.
Even though Christian was a grown man who worked in the FBI cybersecurity division, Ryker wouldn’t leave his brother’s side until he was fully recovered.
Rosemary would feel the same way if their roles were reversed, but that didn’t mean she was canceling her vacation. Sage said it wasn’t safe for her to be alone in the woods for five days. Easy fix. Invite Aleksei. But instead of being content, Sage had lost her goddamn mind.
Do you want to die?
She knew her sister hadn’t meant it. Sage was low on sleep and high on stress, worried sick about Christian, and freaked out about the possibility of Rosemary traveling with a man she barely knew. Still, her sister’s text had cut deep.
She did not want to die. Had never wanted to die.
It was hard for her to believe anybody would want to die.
But she knew what it was like to be given a death sentence.
When she was diagnosed, there was no cure for her cancer, so the goal had never been her recovery.
It had been to use every treatment possible to extend her life as long as possible.
Remiza had cured her cancer, but her cancer had taught her to accept the reality of death. Death would come for her eventually. Death was inevitable. It was what she did in the time she had that mattered. That was why she had invited Aleksei.
She wanted this time with him, but now Sage’s words had planted a seed of doubt in her mind.
She wasn’t worried about rape or murder, but her sister was right.
She’d known Aleksei for barely a week and had dumped a lot on him in a short period of time.
Doubt nipped at her mind, flipping her empty stomach.
What if he was having second thoughts about her being bald?
He’d said he didn’t care, but he’d had a few days to process her confession, and their texts had been sporadic over the weekend.
He was visiting his sister and busy with her kids, but maybe that was an excuse.
What if he had changed his mind? What if he said he would come to Ricketts Glen because he didn’t know how to nicely refuse?
What if he ghosted her? Or worse. What if he was doing the mature thing and coming on the trip so he could tell her in person that he didn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship with her?
What if he gave her the dreaded “I’d like to be friends” talk?
Maybe she should tell him not to come. Five days alone hiking and fishing would be great. Just great.
“Did you find any more elevator invoices?” Armando interrupted her reverie.
Heat flushed her cheeks. She had the feeling it wasn’t the first time he had asked the question.
“No, and I don’t think I will. Whoever’s doing this is smart.”
Armando grimaced. “I agree. We’ve run company names, addresses, and deposit instructions for invoices we pay via ACH, and every duplicate has checked out.
We’ve had three people working for close to seven hours, and other than the elevator invoices you identified for Penrose and Girard, we’ve only found what we think might be a duplicate sprinkler invoice on one property and duplicate lighting expenses on another. ”
“Or maybe they actually needed two different companies to work on the sprinklers and the lighting for those buildings?” Rosemary lifted her palms and shrugged. “That doesn’t make sense to me, but I’m no construction expert. Of course, I’m not a fraud expert either.”
She let her words hang in the air. They were looking for needles in haystacks without the personnel or expertise to find them.
What they really needed was a team of forensic accountants to go over each of the Moresco company files, line by line.
Armando had to know that, but for some reason, he hadn’t suggested it.
Maybe he was worried Sal would judge him. Or maybe pride was holding him back.
Maybe he’d feel better if she suggested it.
“Should we call a few experts and see if there’s fraud detection software we could use?
There are more than one hundred separate Moresco businesses.
It will take us months to review all those files in enough detail to see signs of fraud.
Maybe longer. And there’s still a chance we would miss something because this isn’t our area of expertise. ”
“You know we can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Armando peered over the reading glasses perched at the tip of his nose. “You know why.”
Embarrassment warmed her skin.
“I don’t think she does,” Dante offered, looking up from his laptop and meeting Armando’s stern stare with one of his own.
“She has to.” Armando’s tone was implacable.
“Only if Davis told her, and I don’t think he did. Would you trust that bastard to tell anyone the truth? Think about it. Think about her. Who would choose this?”
“He’s her father,” Armando responded in a tone that sent a shiver down Rosemary’s spine.
It didn’t seem to faze Dante. “Stepfather. He’s her stepfather. And a pretty shitty one, I think. He threw her to the wolves and didn’t tell her a fucking thing.”
“Wolves?” Armando scoffed. “We are not wolves. And watch your language. You know I don’t permit foul language in my office.”
Rosemary looked from Armando to Dante and back to Armando again. They were talking about her as if she weren’t there.
“What am I supposed to know?” she demanded. “What was Davis supposed to tell me?”
Two sharp raps on Armando’s office door broke the uncomfortable silence that had enveloped the room, leaving her questions shimmering in the air, unanswered.
Armando shot to his feet. “Yes?”
Lily appeared in the open door. “I’m headed out for...” Her words shifted into a shocked intake of breath.
“My f-f-f-files,” she sputtered. “What have you done?” The volume of her speech increased as her tone shifted from shock to outrage. “This is a disaster! It will take me hours to organize this mess! How could you do this to my files?”
Armando’s brown eyes blackened, and his expression hardened. The avuncular gentleman was gone, replaced with someone fiercely serious, almost deadly.
“This is my office, and these are my files. I will do whatever I want with them. You work for me. If you would like to continue doing so, you will go back to your desk, pack up, and go home.”
Lily backed away from the door, eyes wide, hands trembling.
Armando called after her. “Mr. Moresco will be stopping by during our staff meeting tomorrow. Make sure you pick up the cinnamon buns he likes from Giovanni’s on your way into the office.”
Lily nodded, then dashed away.
Armando whirled to face Rosemary, pointing. “And you. Pack up and leave for your vacation. Now.”
What the hell was happening? She’d never seen Armando this angry, and there was no reason she could think of as to why he should be mad at her.
He couldn’t still be upset about her reviewing the Penrose warehouse files.
If she hadn’t done that, she wouldn’t have discovered the invoice issue.
Mr. Moresco would be thrilled they’d identified the problem.
Armando would look like a hero. Yet instead of being grateful, he seemed furious and was arguing with Dante about some secret Davis knew but had certainly never shared with her.
Her eyes were blurry, and she had a pounding headache. The fuel from the lunchtime snacks had run out hours ago. If Armando wanted her gone, she was more than happy to oblige.
She rose, legs achy from nerves and too many hours on the hard floor. Dante sprang up from the couch and slid a firm, supportive hand under her forearm, grounding her. The energy in the room had turned cold, so Dante’s warm, friendly hand was most welcome.
He guided her into the hallway toward the metal door that led to the basement. “Come downstairs with me. I want to refresh your computer while you’re gone, so I’m going to give you a loaner laptop to take with you. It’ll just take me a few minutes to set up. Let’s swing by my desk and grab it.”
She hadn’t planned on bringing a computer with her.
On a good day, cell service and Wi-Fi were spotty at Ricketts Glen.
On a bad day, they were nonexistent, but she didn’t have the energy to argue.
She’d keep an eye on her email from her phone the best she could, and if she needed to log on for something, she’d cross that bridge then.
She glanced down at her smartwatch. Ugh.
It was already after 6:00 p.m. She and Aleksei had agreed to meet at the park office at 9:00 p.m. If he was really planning on meeting her, he’d have already left.
If she didn’t get her ass in gear, he’d get there before her.
She still needed to go home to pack the car and get Thor.
If Thor didn’t take to Aleksei, or if Thor and Jaka didn’t get along, she’d take it as a sign from the universe that she’d been meant to take the trip alone.
But if she didn’t grab dinner first, she was going to faint.
Relax, my little one. Just relax. Her mother’s voice lilted through her overtired mind.
She closed her eyes, visualized the tranquil sandy beach at the lake at Ricketts Glen, then released a long, slow, cleansing breath. She’d get there when she’d get there, and Aleksei’s choices were his own. She’d leave her vacation in the hands of the Fates.
They would spin, measure, and cut as they pleased.