Chapter 23
Sloan escorted them to the elevator and waited while they got in and the door closed. Instead of selecting the first floor, El punched number two.
“I would have hit that button too,” Gabe said. “We ask to see Trent, and if they try to throw us out, I plan to make a big scene.” Gabe flashed her a fiendish grin.
She laughed, and her heart lifted a bit. “I’m not sure I’m in on the scene thing, but if he’s here, I won’t leave easily.” She patted her shield on her waistband. “Even if I have to use this to toss out some idle threats.”
“It’ll be interesting to see if your credentials impact this guy at all, or if he thinks he’s untouchable.”
The elevator dinged, and the doors whisked open.
“Time will tell.” She stepped into a surprisingly small lobby area.
The furnishings were similar to the first floor, but the receptionist was a young beauty who looked like she should be a model.
Stereotyping, El knew, but her job proved that out more times than not.
Still, her beliefs ensured she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt.
At the desk, she held out her credentials. “I’m Detective Elaina Lyons with the Lost Lake Sheriff’s Department. I need to see Jonas Trent, and it’s a matter of urgency.”
“Oh, my! The police.” She batted her heavily mascaraed and very false long eyelashes at El. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”
“No, but we believe he can help us with our investigation, and as I said, this is a matter of urgency. Can you please tell him we’re here?”
“Yes, yes, of course. Right now. Hold on.” Seeming flustered, she grabbed the phone. Unfortunately, as she talked, El realized she wasn’t Trent’s gatekeeper, and they’d have to go through his assistant.
She shared a look with Gabe, and he rolled his eyes. She wanted to do the same thing but resisted as the woman was watching her.
She ended her call. “You can have a seat if you want. His assistant will be right out.”
“Thank you.” El gave her a genuine smile and went straight to the seating area but remained standing.
Gabe joined her, and she was struck for the first time by how much he didn’t look at home in this setting.
He wore cargo pants, an ice blue tactical shirt, and tactical boots.
Couple that with his dark intensity, and she was sure he was putting people off.
Well, maybe not the receptionist, who kept looking at him as if he was the next Tom Cruise.
If he noticed, he didn’t care. “Looks like you don’t think the assistant will take much time.”
“I have no idea. Just tired of sitting around. I want to take action.”
“Oh man, you’re a woman after my own heart.” His playful little-boy grin almost distracted her from the door opening.
Almost.
The door was automated, and no one stepped out.
El’s phone chimed, and she checked the text. “Message from Deputy Price. The guy who stole my computer finally turned it on, and they tracked it to a guy named Justin Ward. They went to his address, but he wasn’t there so they’re staking out the place.”
“I’ll get Hayden to do a deep dive into this guy.” Gabe took out his phone and started tapping the screen.
He’d just shoved his phone into a pocket when an older woman in a formal navy suit entered through that automated door and stepped their way.
From what El had heard about Trent, she expected another young and beautiful woman, but with the business he did, his priority had to be someone with solid experience.
“I’m Ms. Carlisle,” she said, her voice pleasant and not at all antagonistic.
El held out her credentials and introduced herself and Gabe.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Ms. Carlisle said. “I’m Mr. Trent’s assistant. Can I ask what this is in regard to?”
“I’m sorry,” El said. “But the information is confidential. Just know that it’s for a life-or-death investigation we’re working on, and it’s very time sensitive. If it wasn’t, I would make an appointment when it was convenient for him.”
Her tongue flicked across lips covered in the palest of pink lipstick. “Follow me.”
She pivoted on her low-heel, sturdy black pumps, and marched back to the same door she’d stepped through. She flashed a card on the keypad and held the door open for them, revealing another small waiting area. “Have a seat, and I’ll tell Mr. Trent you’re here to see him.”
She waited for them to sit, then disappeared through another door behind a desk holding a plaque with her name on it.
“I’m really starting to get irritated,” El said. “But I guess I can’t blame the gatekeepers. They don’t know Lucy’s missing and it might relate to Trent.”
“Still, all I want is to bust down the door and confront him.”
She gave him a pointed look. “But we won’t, and we’ll do our very best to handle ourselves as Christians.”
“Got it,” he said. “No busting down doors, and I’ll do my best to have a good attitude.”
The door opened, and Ms. Carlisle stepped out. “He’ll see you now.”
So quickly? El honestly didn’t expect to get in, and wasn’t as prepared as she should be for such an interview. Her usual composure took a hit, but she got it together to cross the room. “Thank you so much.”
El entered his office. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the place with light. The décor was clean and minimalist, with dark walnut furniture,
Trent sat behind a massive desk holding three or four huge monitors running financial terminals, in a big leather chair that looked insanely comfortable.
He stood, coming to his full six-foot height.
He was dressed in a formal black suit with a white shirt that set off his jet-black hair to perfection.
He was like his receptionist. Model perfect.
But a guy El could never be interested in.
She liked hers rough and tumble. Street smart, not financial investor smart.
Gabe.
Trent came around the desk, his hand outstretched. “Detective Lyons.”
She took his hand, the firm grasp almost punishing. She gave back as good as she could before she let go.
He nodded at Gabe. “Have a seat.”
He pointed at a sleek leather sofa sitting below colorful abstract art.
As they sat, she couldn’t help but notice the whole vibe was calm, quiet, and expensive without being flashy, just serious money and total control. The exact opposite of Sloan.
He sat in a club chair across from them. “What can I do for you?”
“We’d like information on your role with Safe Harbor.” She wouldn’t expose any more until she heard what he had to say.
“I should first let you know I have a personal connection to the home. My wife and I adopted two amazing boys who were being housed there. They’ve brought so much to our lives, and I was so impressed with the home and director that I created a foundation to help fund them.
Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to raise enough money to allow New Tide to become their sole support. ”
“And you serve as the chairman of New Tide’s board.”
He gave one crisp nod. “My role is to provide operational guidance to the director and ensure there’s enough money in the bank to keep the home running with a quality program for these children.”
“Basically, you tell the director what to do so their place can get money from you,” Gabe said, obviously forgetting the Mr. Nice Guy routine he’d promised to follow.
Trent fired a sharp look at Gabe before he cleared it, but in that moment, El could see him as a murderer. Or maybe she wanted him to be one, because it meant they were moving forward.
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say they have to earn their money, but the board does have certain expectations that need to be followed. I enforce those expectations.”
El cleared her throat to draw Trent’s attention from Gabe. “Tell us the procedure on how money is transferred to the home after the board approves the payment.”
“Very simple, really. I notify our accountant to issue payment. He cuts them a check, then walks it across the parking lot to their bookkeeper.”
“When you say notify, how is that handled?” she asked, hoping there was a paper trail to follow the money.
“We’re not a big organization needing a lot of paperwork. I just make a simple phone call to Sloan. Patrick Sloan, our accountant. He handles the rest.”
“And I assume he also manages all of the money that comes in from your fundraisers.”
“Actually, no. Sound accounting practice dictates the person who receives the money should never disperse it. The money comes in to our donation processor, and she takes care of all the accounting entries and deposits the money. She’s also responsible for recurring donations and special gifts.”
“So you never touch the money, incoming or outgoing?”
“I do not,” he said very clearly, as if he wanted her to take note of it.
“Don’t tell me you think our organization’s financial procedures have something to do with your investigation.
If you do, I can assure you, we employ Generally Accepted Accounting Practices and have passed every audit we’ve ever had. ”
“I see,” El said. “When were your books last audited?”
“Less than two years ago.”
Same answer as Sloan. Either they prepared for questions about their finances, or it was the truth. “Is the same true for Safe Harbor?”
He nodded. “And I’ll be glad to provide you with the auditor’s conclusions if that would be helpful.”
If he was so eager to help, a red flag didn’t immediately pop up, but obviously Kenna had found something in the books that got her killed. “Do you know a Kenna James?”
“Name sounds familiar,” he said without hesitation.
“She was a volunteer at Safe Harbor. Did admin duties.”
“Oh yes, Kenna. Sure, I knew of her. We communicated via email a few times, but I never worked with her.”
“I’m sorry to tell you she was murdered Friday night.”
He remained expressionless, but that didn’t mean anything. He didn’t have much sympathy because he really didn’t know Kenna, or he didn’t care enough about a lowly volunteer dying.