Chapter 37
Eight days before the arts center opened, Beth walked through the front doors and stopped. Something smelled awful.
She had barely taken a second breath when Hank appeared from the hallway leading to the restrooms.
He wiped his hands on a rag. “Before you ask, I know.”
Beth wrinkled her nose. “Please tell me you know what’s causing it.”
“Not yet. I smelled it when I got here this morning. I thought one of the toilets was blocked, so I called a plumber.”
“At least you’re ahead of me.”
“He’s been here about twenty minutes.” Hank glanced over his shoulder. “He’s checking everything now.”
Beth slipped off her coat. “A blocked toilet I can cope with.”
Hank nodded. “So can the plumber, hopefully.”
That was reassuring. Or it would have been if the smell hadn’t followed Beth into her office. She opened the window a few inches despite the cold. In eight days, the building would be filled with people enjoying music, children’s activities, the artwork, and enough food to feed half the town.
A blocked toilet was annoying, but it wasn’t a disaster. She could deal with annoying. Opening her laptop, she found the latest list of jobs that needed to be finished and started working through them. Almost forty minutes later, footsteps sounded outside her office.
The plumber appeared in the doorway and Hank was right behind him. One look at their faces and Beth knew something had changed. She pushed back her chair. “What’s wrong?”
The plumber took off his work gloves. “It isn’t the toilet.”
Beth’s stomach sank. “What is it?”
“The line between the building and the main sewer. We’ve run a camera through it. Part of the old pipe has collapsed.”
For a moment, Beth said nothing. Of all the problems she’d imagined they might have during the final week, a collapsed sewer pipe hadn’t made the list. “Can it be repaired?”
“Yes, but we’ll have to excavate part of the line and replace the damaged section. It’s not a small job.”
Hank crossed his arms in front of his chest. “How long will it take?”
“If everything goes smoothly, we should be able to get it done before your opening.”
If everything went smoothly.
Beth’s experience had taught her not to put too much faith in those four words. “How much will it cost?”
“I’ll need to work out the full estimate, but I’d allow around eighteen thousand dollars.”
Beth stared at him. “Eighteen thousand?”
The plumber nodded. “It could come in a little under that. Depends what we find once we start digging.”
“We don’t have eighteen thousand dollars.”
The plumber gave her a sympathetic look. “I’ll get the estimate to you this afternoon. If you approve it quickly, I can organize the crew and machinery for tomorrow.”
Beth glanced at Hank. He didn’t look any happier than she felt. “All right. Send it through as soon as you can.”
After the plumber left, Hank remained in the doorway. “We’ll find a way,” he said.
Beth wished she shared his confidence. “I’d better start looking.”
Hank nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”
When he left, Beth closed her office door and returned to her desk.
Eighteen thousand dollars.
She opened the budget spreadsheet. The council couldn’t magically produce that much money at a week’s notice. The grant money had been allocated, and most of the contingency fund had already disappeared into unexpected repairs.
There had to be something they could postpone. Beth started with the orders that hadn’t arrived. Two tables for the children’s art room could wait. The extra display stands weren’t essential. Neither were the new chairs she’d ordered for the smaller meeting room.
She wrote each saving on a sheet of paper. It wasn’t enough. Beth went back through the list.
Her gaze stopped on the plumbing account. The faucets.
The wrong ones had been delivered weeks ago. Dave had dealt with the supplier, and she’d been told the center would only pay the cost of her original order.
She opened the invoice to double-check what they’d been charged. The amount was correct, but Beth still frowned. She wasn’t sure why, but something about it bothered her. She opened another folder and began checking recent purchases.
Paint.
Timber.
Door hardware.
Shelving.
Acoustic battens.
Beth stopped. The acoustic treatment in the music room had been installed earlier that week. She’d gone in yesterday and admired the finished result, but what she’d seen wasn’t the same as the picture on the original quote.
She read the product description twice. Then she left her office and walked quickly to the music room.
The new acoustic battens covered each wall, giving the room a warm, finished appearance.
They were definitely different from what she’d ordered.
And, unless she was very much mistaken, they were considerably more expensive.
She stepped out of the music room, looking for Hank. He was farther along the hallway, fitting a handle to one of the doors. “Hank?”
He glanced at her. “What’s up?”
“Do you know where these acoustic battens came from?”
His hand paused. It was barely noticeable, but Beth saw it. “The supplier, I assume.”
“I know that.” She pointed toward the music room. “They aren’t the ones I ordered.”
Hank returned his attention to the handle. “You’ll have to ask Dave.”
Beth’s unease sharpened. “Did Dave change the order?”
“I don’t deal with the accounts, Beth.”
That wasn’t an answer. “Hank?”
He sighed and looked at her. “Dave handles most of the construction orders. I just install what turns up.”
Beth studied him for a moment. There was something he wasn’t telling her. But with an eighteen-thousand-dollar sewer repair hanging over them, she didn’t have time to drag it out of him.
She returned to her office, and this time, she checked everything. The shelving in the storeroom caught her attention next.
Beth had chosen reasonably priced metal units. What had been installed was heavier, commercial-grade shelving that looked as though it could survive for decades.
She found the invoice. It was for the cheaper shelves.
Beth leaned closer to the screen. That couldn’t be right. She checked the order number against her paperwork, then walked into the storeroom and found the manufacturer’s label on one of the uprights. It was a different product.
Back at her desk, she checked the cupboard hardware. Same problem. The hinges installed throughout the center were better than the ones listed on the invoice.
She went through the timber purchases next. Some receipts were there. Others weren’t. By lunchtime, papers covered most of her desk.
Beth sat back and rubbed her forehead. For weeks, she’d been relieved that the renovation budget was holding together despite everything they’d added. She’d congratulated herself on careful purchasing and Dave’s ability to negotiate good prices.
Now it didn’t make sense. The center hadn’t received cheaper materials. It had received better ones. And somehow the accounts weren’t showing the true cost.
Her phone rang. Natalie’s name appeared on the screen.
Beth answered. “Hi.”
“I’m checking that we’re still meeting tomorrow to go through the opening arrangements.”
“Yes. Ten o’clock.”
There was a brief silence. “Is everything all right, Beth? You sound distracted.”
She looked at the invoices. “We’ve found a problem with the sewer line. Part of the old pipe has collapsed.”
“Oh, no.”
“The plumber thinks it’ll cost about eighteen thousand dollars.”
Natalie went quiet.
“I know,” Beth said.
“Can it be repaired before the opening?”
“They think so.”
Natalie breathed a sigh of relief. “Don’t worry, Beth. We’ll find the money.”
Beth wished she shared Natalie’s confidence. “I’ve already started looking at the budget. There are a few things we can cancel.”
“Don’t cancel anything yet. We’ll go through it tomorrow.”
After the call ended, Beth stared at the spreadsheet again. Maybe Natalie was right. Except the sewer wasn’t the only problem anymore. Beth picked up the shelving invoice and carried it into the storeroom. She checked the manufacturer’s label one more time.
There was no mistake. Returning to her desk, she wrote the actual product beside the invoiced one. Then she did the same with the hinges. When she realized there’d been a mistake with the faucets, she’d thought they’d been incredibly lucky.
Now she wasn’t so sure. One mistake was possible.
Two might be coincidence. But expensive faucets, upgraded shelving, better hinges and acoustic treatment she hadn’t ordered?
Something was wrong. Either someone had been quietly covering the difference, or the center owed money Beth knew nothing about.
Neither possibility sat comfortably with her.
She picked up her phone to call Dave. Her thumb hovered over his name, then she lowered it.
If she asked him now, he’d tell her not to worry. He’d say he’d look into it. And because it was Dave, because she trusted him, she’d be tempted to leave it with him.
Not this time. She wanted the facts first.
Beth opened her budget and added a column for the product number of each item that was delivered.
Before she spoke to Natalie, she’d find out where the money for the upgraded orders had come from.