by RJ Blain
I almost pitied Chase’s wallet—almost. If he got a bucket every day, he might run out of money one day. Maybe.
Gavin burst into laughter. “No, Miriah. If all it takes to make you happy is chicken, I can promise a lifetime supply if you marry me.”
“No, Dad. Leave Mom alone. Can’t we have one family dinner without you trying to provoke her?”
“It’s not my fault she’s obsessed with the chicken here.”
“But it is your fault she’s a chameleon right now.”
“Actually, it’s—”
I lunged for Gavin’s face, hissed, and did my best to scratch out his tongue so he wouldn’t betray my secret.
To keep me from trying to kill his father, Caleb caged me in an overturned but unfortunately empty bucket and stacked something heavy on top. With tween ingenuity, he cut a slit in the cardboard so I could watch some of the goings on at the table. When I didn’t hiss, my evil captor of a son fed me chicken while Gavin laughed.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Chase. Mom and Dad aren’t very good at sharing space together, and Mom gets moody when she’s cold.”
“She’s not cold,” Gavin muttered.
“Divine magic, I presume?” Chase hummed a few notes of some slow song I didn’t recognize. “As long as she doesn’t get cold.”
If I could ride in Chase’s shirt again, I had no problems with getting cold.
Gavin’s snicker confirmed the dastardly divine was listening in on my thoughts again.
Someone offered a steaming piece of chicken through the slot in my prison, and I snapped my teeth, growling when my torturer didn’t relinquish it. I grabbed hold with my claws and pulled.
“She’s surprisingly strong,” Chase observed.
Well, then. If he didn’t want to let my dinner go, I’d just have to eat out of his hand. I tore at the meat, swallowing whenever I tore off a piece of my prize. When finished, I thumped the bucket in demand.
“Mom, don’t be rude.”
“I’m thinking she’s justified,” Chase admitted. “I didn’t let it go.”
I smacked the bucket again and waited for more chicken to appear. The game of tug of war resumed. When Chase refused to give me my dinner, I landed a nip and managed to claim my meat before he escaped my reach.
“She’s made a rule,” Gavin reported. “It’s her point if she lands a nip, yours if you escape.”
“This game seems a little more dangerous than a minute ago. Those little teeth hurt.” Chase offered another piece of meat, and I attacked from the side, chomping the tip of his finger in my rush to claim my meal. He yelped and dropped the chicken.
I took it to the other side of the bucket and hissed.
My chicken.
“Mom! Be nice. I’m so sorry, Mr. Chase. I don’t know what’s gotten into her today.”
“Let this be a life lesson for you, Caleb,” Chase replied. “Women are always dangerous, and perhaps I shouldn’t tease your mother when she’s hungry in the future.”
Another piece appeared in the opening, and I darted forward to grab it, dragging it to my other prize.
“Give her a few minutes to eat that,” Gavin suggested. “While she’s in your care, there are a few things you should be aware of. Most importantly, she’ll never shift if there isn’t sufficient space for her human form.”
Huh. I hadn’t known that, but I approved. I’d always wondered what would happen if I’d shifted in a small space. For the first few weeks of the curse, I’d suffered from nightmares about melding with the nearest solid surface, resulting in a quick but messy death.
“Second, she needs to eat a human diet in human quantity—perhaps a little higher than human quantity. She’s still human. The magic merely alters her anatomy. The cold isn’t as much of a danger to her as it is in natural lizards, but she will hibernate until she warms up. Despite her opinions on snowbanks, falling into one won’t actually kill her. She’ll just be very unhappy and easy prey for someone. She’s much more durable than a natural chameleon.”
Tiana snickered. “Karma chameleons make great starter pets.”
I loved my bitch of a friend, but I wanted to bite her. Hard.
“Third, her belongings transform with her. If you want to be able to access her phone or keys, make sure she’s not carrying them before becoming a chameleon again.”
“She’ll return to human, then? This isn’t a permanent condition?”
“It’s not a permanent condition,” Gavin confirmed.
It wasn’t? Since when?
Someone poked the bucket. “Consider this an early Christmas present, Miriah. You’ll shift back to human when you’re doing your evening holiday project. I’ll need your schedule for it. Otherwise, the same rules apply.”
As I was limited in vocals, I forced a squeak to show my appreciation that my entire holidays wouldn’t be ruined.
“You’re welcome. Plan an outing with fro-girl here, too. I’ll add one other exemption because I’m feeling generous. That, plus I’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t get your Christmas shopping in.”
“I’m free on Sunday,” Tiana said. “And you just wish you could rock a fro half as well as I do.”
“I should curse you to have straight, boring hair for eternity.”
“Don’t you even dare,” Tiana hissed. “You leave my beautiful hair alone!”
I willed Gavin to stop teasing my friend and stealing my nicknames for her.
“All right, all right. Eleven in the morning until midnight,” Gavin replied. “Don’t lose her in a snowbank.”
“I wouldn’t!”
She would, but I loved her despite her tendency to cause me trouble for the fun of it.
Chase cleared his throat. “Anything else I should know?”
“She’s a walking catastrophe. She’s allergic to almonds, but they’re one of her favorite foods.”
I hissed. Stupid, delicious almonds. They made me itch, but I loved them. Traitorous, wonderful almonds.
“No almonds. Got it. Anything else? What about other nuts?”
“She’s allergic to cashews, but she doesn’t love them nearly as much as almonds. She doesn’t have problems with any other nuts. I’ll have Caleb call in the evenings. She’ll be easier to handle that way.”
I could think of one nut I had a problem with: Gavin.
The divine sighed.
“I’ll give you my number in case her phone is inaccessible,” Chase offered.
“Perfect. Oh, one last thing. Take some work home for her. It’s a coping mechanism. That, plus I expect you’ll get annoyed with the intricacies of chameleon care. The sooner she’s finished, the better off you’ll both be.”
I hated that Gavin was right, and to hide the sting and pretend the truth didn’t hurt, I thumped the bucket to demand more chicken.
Gavin kept my thoughts secret, for which I was grateful.
I inhaled a ridiculous amount of chicken, and when I couldn’t handle another bite, I curled up for a nap.
“Miriah’s done,” Gavin announced in a soft voice. “It’s probably a good time for us to get out of here. Caleb has school in the morning.”
Gavin was a lot of things, but he took his son’s future seriously. I understood. I expected Gavin would be underfoot more than usual following the deaths of his other children.
Some things I could never begrudge, and while we had problems, if Gavin wanted to see Caleb and Caleb wanted to see his father, I wouldn’t get in the way.
Chase peeked beneath the rim of my bucket. “I think you’re right. This works well enough. She doesn’t need to be awake for the doctor to check on her.”
Chase’s father chuckled. He’d stayed so quiet throughout dinner that I’d forgotten about him. “He feels responsible, and he won’t be satisfied until someone he trusts convinces him she’ll be fine. Well, I never thought I’d have dinner with a divine. It definitely wasn’t what I was expecting.”
Caleb giggled. “Dad’s playing pretend. He doesn’
t like freaking us weak-willed humans out.”
“Yet he cursed your mother so she becomes a chameleon,” Chase muttered.
“Dad has issues, Mr. Chase. Sorry.”
So did I, and so was I.
Tiana snickered. “Don’t worry about it, Chase. He’s an idiot. Sometimes, I even think he means well. Sort of.”
Traitor frenemy. I stuck my tongue out at her.
Chase chuckled and flagged down the Pa portion of the Ma and Pa joint, and he ordered a bucket to go and the bill.
Damn it. How was I supposed to dislike him if he got an entire bucket of my favorite chicken for the road? At the rate I was going, I’d be stuck as a chameleon forever—or for as long as Chase stuck around.
Gavin laughed, said his farewells, thanked Chase for picking up the bill, and herded our son out the door. Tiana followed, winking at me before making her escape.
While we waited for the chicken, Chase eyed his father. “Thoughts?”
“Someone’s hiding something big enough they’re willing to stoop to murder to keep it secret. That they acted so early tells me they believe your chameleon can expose them—probably with general ease. My bet is on someone attempting to skim corporate accounts. You’re lucky it was noticed before January. If someone in accounting is attempting to skim, they’ll act near tax time.”
“And get caught,” Chase grumbled.
“You know that. I know that. Whoever is behind this likely has no idea how hands on you are with the tax accounting each year. It’s likely more than one person, too. I’d put my bets on someone in marketing, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re working with someone else in a different department to make their work easier.”
“Or they’re working with an outsider and overcharging the accounts. They’d be faking statistics to keep the money flowing.”
“That’s also a possibility. That divine had good advice for you. Take your work home with you this once. No one will expect that, you’ll find the culprit faster, and you’ll be happier for it. I’m not suggesting you do this all the time, but I feel the situation likely warrants it.”
I appreciated Chase not wanting to take work home with him. When I worked from home, I recognized every minute it took away from Caleb.
“I don’t like it, but all right.”
“Good boy. Now, tell me about Miss Cox. You’re not usually so interested in employee acquisitions unless you’re looking for a new assistant.”
“Alex recommended her. He likes her work a lot, and her spreadsheets and general reports are logical. And sane. You don’t need a math degree to get the idea.”
Chase’s father laughed. “She managed to dumb it down enough you understood it without needing a meeting?”
“There’s a reason I don’t invite you over for dinner, Dad. Could you not be a jerk today?”
“Me being a jerk keeps you on your toes and prepares you for handling the assholes in charge of other companies. I’m helping you succeed at life. Go on. What else?”
“Miriah did a full evaluation of Alex’s business when she was hired because she wanted to understand the company’s dynamic. He thought it was a good idea, and he was impressed she wanted to get a good view of the company’s history. Of his staff, Miriah’s one of his quickest thinkers, and because she did do the background work, she was able to build some pretty accurate projections. She also has a good eye for any oddities in the numbers.”
“She’s a basic number cruncher?”
“She’s hardly basic,” Chase snapped.
If he kept stroking my ego, I’d become as insufferable as Gavin within a week.
“Chase. She’s a low-level employee of Alex’s. That makes her a basic number cruncher. She’s not in management, and she’s not a team lead.”
“A divine who doesn’t want to take no for an answer wouldn’t be interested in someone basic.”
“In the employment field, Chase.”
“She’s a number cruncher.”
“How did you convince that scrooge to part with one of his number crunchers, anyway?”
“I asked.”
Chase’s father snorted and leaned back in his chair. “Boy, he would’ve laughed me right out of his office if I’d asked.”
“Maybe if you stopped putting people in timeout when they annoy you, they wouldn’t laugh at you when you ask them for help. Let me remind you of something: you put Alex in timeout three times before you finally retired. In the same week.”
“If they didn’t annoy me, I wouldn’t put them in timeout.”
“I get tired of listening to Mom complain you’ve added more time to your community service. Please stop putting people in timeout.”
“Why are you siding with her?”
“I retrieved you from jail four times last month. The police have my number on speed dial. This isn’t something to be proud of.”
I watched Chase’s father, and it occurred to me I needed to make certain he didn’t teach Tiana any bad habits—or Caleb. Or Gavin. Or anyone else I knew. Men like him meant trouble for me, and I didn’t need the help of some dumb curse to recognize that.
If Chase’s father had polluted Chase with his trickster ways, I’d be in even more trouble. I liked tricksters who didn’t actually hurt anyone. I’d need to do some research to discover what the pair meant by timeout and why the older man kept getting arrested for doing it.
The two glared at each other, and Chase’s father finally scowled, turned his head, and muttered, “Nonsense.”
“Dad, you’re supposed to be a mature adult. Stop getting arrested.”
“Why must you insist on ruining my fun? I’m retired. Life during retirement should be enjoyed.”
“Can you be serious for just this once, please? Someone threw that glass hard enough it left a chameleon-shaped imprint in her monitor. This isn’t a game.”
“I’m aware. It’s likely someone is trying to skim company funds. People will do a lot to get money, and throwing a glass at a lizard to protect their secret? Doesn’t even register to most people as a crime. They either don’t know or don’t care she’s human. In your shoes, I’d audit the entire accounting and marketing departments, and I’d take a closer look at the system administrators, too. The secretarial and coordination staff might have access, but I’m not sure they’d have the skills needed to pull it off. Your first job is to identify who could pull it off, and I’d put together lists of people you think might work together to make it happen.”
“Likelihood it’s a collaborative effort?”
“How much are you estimated to be bleeding?”
“Enough I’m worried about it. A lot.”
I estimated the figure to be in the millions, possibly into the tens of millions if I assumed all accounts were skimming ten percent in extra expenses. I hadn’t checked the total amounts, but the accounts I’d investigated were worth millions—each.
“A lot divided by five people is still a lot.”
Chase sighed and rubbed his temple. “There are enough people involved they might need to work for ten years to make this worth their while. Each.”
“How the hell did you misplace tens of millions of dollars?”
“I think the problem existed while you were still CEO, old man.” Chase pointed at me. “She pinpointed an issue with the extra expenses fund, and whoever is doing it knows enough about how we check for red flags to be working that fund—likely working with the companies to get a prettier piece of the pie.”
“The extra expenses account? That’s where the hole is?”
“Miriah discovered that sometime in January this year, someone began adding the extra expenses fund into the campaign totals. That’s why the projections and the actual earnings dive-bombed.”
“Because when you add an extra ten percent to the campaign costs, the campaign no longer looks like it’s performing as well, does it?” Chase’s father grimaced. “All right. If the issue is with the extra expenses fund, I’m partially to blame. That whole
category was my idea so I’d have to stop signing as many damned authorizations.”
“You could have just hired someone to handle the extra expenses authorizations, Dad.”
“You’re right. And it seems obvious I should have. Any ideas on who or why?”
“No, but I’ll be getting Miriah all the data she needs to figure it out tomorrow. With luck, we’ll be able to bury this before the end of the holidays—or at least cut off that funding leak.”
“How the hell did you bleed out millions, Chase?”
“I wanted to ask the same of you, as it seems I may have inherited the issue.”
I watched them with interest, wondering who would emerge the victor of the escalating dispute.
“All right. How the hell did we lose millions out of the extra expenses account?”
“Well, before I asked Alex for help, I had no idea it was from the extra expenses account. That’s why I asked Alex. I couldn’t figure it out. The accountants swore all the signed invoices matched the accounts, but the numbers on the account performance reports seemed off.”
“How off?”
“When I estimated, before Miriah discovered the altered formula from January, I was looking at around three million.”
“Any of it from the charity funds?”
“That’s what caught my attention. I believe that the charity campaigns were unaltered; their performance for this year so far is off compared to regular campaign performance—by around ten percent.”
“The allowed maximum for our extra expenses account. So, it seems you have a case of an almost ethical crook.”
“Or they’re not directly involved with the charity drive.”
“That’s always a possibility. Tell you what. I’ll send in a friend of mine. She’ll play number cruncher while your real number cruncher works on isolating the true source of the problem. My friend is quite capable of protecting herself. She’s also very observant. If someone at your office is going to continue targeting those getting close to the discrepancy, she’ll be able to handle the issue.”
“I’ll think about it.”
The arrival of a bucket of chicken ended the discussion, and without another word, Chase tucked me into his jacket, paid for dinner, left a tip, and braved the cold to return to his car.