Uncharted Waters

by Rosemary McCracken

  “Pat,” she called after me.

  I turned at the front door to face her.

  “You told Lukas’s boss about our plans.”

  “I certainly did. You claim you’re starting a business, so it’s time for Lukas’s boss to know he’s leaving.”

  Still fuming, I got into my waiting taxi. There was nothing I could do to protect my business from the Monaghans. As Catherine had said, they had the trusted Monaghan name.

  My only edge was my determination to do my very best for my clients. But how could I get that across to them?

  I was staring out the taxi window when we passed a home on Parkside Drive with a For Sale sign on its lawn. The company was the Monarch real-estate giant, and Rebecca Quincy was the agent in charge of the listing. But the cab sped by quickly, and the agent’s photo on the sign was just a blur.

  Maxie looked ready to levitate with happiness when I opened the front door. “Hey, girl!” I said. “We are definitely going for a walk, but first let me take a look at my computer. You can go out in the yard till I’m done.”

  In my study, I called up Monarch Realty’s website, and found Rebecca Quincy’s listings. In the space reserved for her photo, she had downloaded Monarch’s yellow-and-black company logo. Was she camera shy? House hunters liked to see a friendly face on a For Sale sign.

  ***

  The telephone was ringing when Tommy and Maxie and I returned from our walk.

  “Pat,” Stéphane said when I picked up, “there’s an ugly rumor going around.”

  Stéphane didn’t indulge in idle gossip, so I knew there had to be a good reason for him to pass one on.

  “What is it?” I asked, resigned to hearing the worst.

  “A story is out that you quit Norris Cassidy before you could be fired for financial misconduct.”

  I flinched as though I’d been slapped in the face. “That is an outright lie!” I cried. I’ve always done what I thought was best for my clients, and by the book. I’m a stickler for playing by the rules.

  “I know. It’s a preposterous story,” Stéphane said, “but dirt like this can do serious damage.”

  I needed to know all the details. “What kind of financial misconduct?”

  “Skimming client accounts.”

  “Stealing clients’ money!” I was living my worst nightmare. “What should I do?”

  “We’ll figure something out.”

  “Who did you hear it from?”

  “Rose.”

  Rose Sisto was Stéphane’s administrative assistant. I had hired her several years before, and I thought the world of her. She was smart, discreet, and completely trustworthy.

  “She was at a networking breakfast this morning organized by some of my advisor friends. I couldn’t make it, but I thought Rose would find the speaker interesting. Lukas Monaghan was there, and Rose was seated beside him.”

  I should have known that Lukas was behind this. “So Lukas told Rose that I was skimming clients’ accounts.”

  “Norris Cassidy will stand by you,” Stéphane said.

  “It has to. I did nothing wrong, and compliance can prove it.” I was talking about the company’s compliance department that monitors all transactions to ensure its advisors are following securities regulations. “Big Brother was always watching me at Norris Cassidy.”

  “Better talk to Keith Kulas.”

  He was right. I needed to get Norris Cassidy’s chief executive behind me.

  I told Stéphane that Catherine and Lukas had been approaching my clients, and that a few had decided to join them.

  “And now they’ve started a smear campaign,” he said. “What’s wrong with these Monaghans? They’ve got to be stupid to spread a damaging lie. They must know they could be sued for slander.”

  “Catherine seems to have a head on her shoulders, but Lukas runs on pure emotion. He wants his father’s business, and he thinks I’m standing in his way.”

  “And he doesn’t seem to know that investment firms—his current employer included—have compliance departments.”

  Lukas wasn’t the brightest financial advisor in the city. I certainly wouldn’t want him managing my money. But he had created a huge problem for me, and I needed to attack it immediately.

  “I hope he’s done only minimal damage,” I said. “I’d better talk to my lawyer.”

  “And talk to Keith.”

  ***

  “You will need to prove two things to win a defamation-of-character lawsuit,” Ilona said when I reached her at her office. ‘First, you’ll have to prove what was said about you is not true.”

  “Of course, what Lukas is saying isn’t true. Norris Cassidy’s compliance department keeps its advisors under continual surveillance.”

  “Lukas could argue that it missed something.”

  “I suppose,” I admitted. “And the second thing I need to prove?”

  “That the false statement was made with the intent to cause you harm.”

  “That’s a given,” I said. “A story that I’ve been stealing clients’ money will do irreparable harm to my business. And benefit Monaghan Wealth Management.”

  “But to win your claim, you’d need to prove irreparable harm. Unfortunately, that means waiting for Lukas’s lies to create problems for the business.”

  I’d had enough. “Ilona, by that time, I’ll be ruined. I need to stop this now. I don’t care about winning a lawsuit against Lukas. I just want him to stop his lies so I can get on with running my business.”

  “I suggest we send him a cease-and-desist letter.”

  “A letter!”

  “A letter that threatens legal action if the rumors are not stopped, and retractions are not made.”

  “Lukas and his lawyer will take their own sweet time getting back to you.”

  “I’ll draft the letter. In the meantime, talk to Keith Kulas at Norris Cassidy. Get him behind you.”

  The frustrations of the past weeks had reached a boiling point. I let out a loud wail as I stood up. Poor Maxie stared at me, terror in her eyes. She waited until I quieted down, then crept over and licked my hand.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  It was almost closing time at Norris Cassidy’s Bay Street headquarters. I was seated across from Keith Kulas, my fingers crossed that my former boss would stand by me. But the company’s chief executive didn’t look particularly friendly on the other side of his vast mahogany desk. Perhaps because, a few months before, I had turned down his proposal to oversee Norris Cassidy’s operations in Ontario cottage country. I’d also turned down the title of vice president. And I’d left the company.

  Still, I forged ahead. I told Keith that I had bought Dean Monaghan’s business. He already knew that. Everyone in the industry seemed to have heard of Dean, and those who hadn’t heard of him before he was murdered had certainly heard of him now. And they knew who had bought his business.

  “If anyone can make a go of fee-only, you can,” Keith said. Coming from him, that was high praise. I continued speaking.

  He turned his handsome, white head, and appeared to be contemplating the early evening cityscape beyond his 32nd-story window. I told him about Catherine and Lukas poaching my clients. I ended with the rumor that Lukas had put into circulation.

  He fixed his pale blue eyes on me. “It was the talk of the luncheon I was at today.”

  My heart sank.

  “It’s nonsense, of course.”

  That gave me hope.

  “You think the Monaghans are behind it?” he asked.

  “I know they are,” I said. “Lukas Monaghan told Rose Sisto, my former AA.”

  “You’ll need more proof than that. It’s her word against his.”

  “I don’t want to take Lukas to court. I just want him to stop his lies. Do you have any ideas?”

  “You’ll come up with something, Pat. You can’t let these people ruin you.”

  I took a deep breath. “Will you stand by me, Keith? Put out a statement saying there we
re no black marks against me at Norris Cassidy?” I was begging, but I didn’t give a damn how desperate I looked.

  “I’d love to help you, Pat, really I would. I’ll deny this rumor if I hear it again, but I won’t put out a statement. It might backfire on the company.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair.

  He was enjoying this!

  “If there’s a court case, our compliance department will testify that were no marks against you at Norris Cassidy. But that’s only if it goes to court.”

  At least I could count on that. “Thank you, Keith.”

  He called my name as I left his office. I kept walking.

  ***

  I was shaking as I flagged down a taxi on Bay Street. I told the driver to head up Mount Pleasant Road. I had him drive as far as Heath Street, then turn right. I got out at the footbridge over the Moore Park Ravine. I crossed the bridge, and walked down the hill to the forest trail.

  My world was unraveling. I wouldn’t face criminal charges for the story Lukas had concocted; even Keith had called it nonsense. But the rumor would spiral, and I would be shunned by everyone in the industry. No one would work with me, or refer my services to their friends and relatives. My career would come to an end.

  Keith’s rejection hurt. It more than hurt; it was a slap in the face. I had spent 20 years at Norris Cassidy, and I’d always given it my best. I knew that Keith respected me for the work I’d done, but he refused to throw me a lifeline when I desperately needed it. I clenched my fists and walked faster along the trail. Keith’s brush-off confirmed that I had been right to leave the company.

  And I needed money. I had put my savings into my new business, and I’d taken out a loan to cover the shortfall. With my clients migrating to the Monaghans, I wouldn’t be able to sell the business. I might have to downsize my home to cover the loan. The idea of having to leave my home made be stop in my tracks.

  Should I train for a new career? “No!” I shouted, getting startled looks from the two women who were approaching me on the trail.

  “Sorry!” I gave them a cheerful smile. “Talking to myself.”

  No, I wouldn’t let bastards like Lukas destroy the career I had worked so hard to build. Not without one hell of a fight.

  ***

  The kids had ordered in pizza, and they were eating in the kitchen when I got home. “Help yourself, Mom,” Laura said. “We have more than enough here.”

  I wasn’t hungry, but I poured myself a glass of chardonnay.

  I downed the wine quickly in the sunroom. I was about to refill my glass when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Kyle called out.

  I heard voices in the hallway. Moments later, Stéphane and Rose came into the room. Stéphane lifted a hand in greeting, but he stood back as Rose rushed up to me. Her lined face was filled with concern.

  “Rose,” I said. We hugged, and I gestured to the sofa. Stéphane took the armchair beside us.

  “We’ve been terribly worried,” Rose said. “That man…Lukas Monaghan. I can’t believe he would say that about you.” She ran a hand through her short gray hair. “And you bought his father’s business. I’d say you bought yourself a heap of trouble.”

  Stéphane held up a business card. I recognized the Optimum logo. “Le p’tit maudit gave Rose his card.”

  That gave me an idea. “Rose, does Lukas know where you work?”

  She shook her head. “He never asked. I never told him. He wanted to talk about himself, and the business he was starting. And about you.”

  “What if you told him you’re looking for financial advice?” I said.

  Her eyes brightened.

  It might work. “Are you up for it?” I asked.

  “You bet I am!” Her eyes were shining now.

  “You could tell him you’ve been looking at a number of advisors,” Stéphane said, “and Pat is one of the ones you’re considering. Then he’ll tell you what he thinks of her.”

  “We’ll need to tape what he says,” Rose said.

  Stéphane turned to me. “You know we can’t take this to court. Our case would be dismissed on grounds of entrapment, that we created an opportunity for Lukas to badmouth you.”

  “I don’t want to take it to court,” I said. “I just want to scare the hell out of Lukas by threatening to expose him to everyone in the industry. And make him retract what he’s said.”

  I pondered what Rose had said about taping the conversation. “But do we have to record it?” I asked. Canada’s “one party consent” law allows a conversation to be recorded as long as one of the participating parties is in the know. But that’s never sat quite right with me.

  Stéphane and Rose stared at me in disbelief.

  “Your reputation and your livelihood are at stake,” Stéphane said. “It’s time to take off the kid gloves, Pat.”

  Rose nodded in agreement.

  I sighed. “Okay, we’ll record it.” I needed something to show Lukas that I was prepared to go to court if he forced my hand.

  “Have you spoken to Keith?” Stéphane asked.

  “He turned me down. Doesn’t want to be tarnished by association.”

  “Merde. That rules out asking any other Norris Cassidy honchos.” He sighed. “All the more reason to get Lukas on tape.”

  “Where would this conversation take place?” I asked. “Lukas has been fired from Optimum, and he and his mother don’t yet have offices for their company. And obviously you can’t have him come to your branch.”

  “My daughter’s office,” Rose said.

  Rose’s daughter was a family physician, and her office suite was always packed with patients. Hardly the place to carry out a sting.

  “If we did it tomorrow,” Rose said, “we’d have Vivian’s suite to ourselves.”

  The next day was Saturday. But Lukas was eager to build a clientele, so he would be willing to meet a prospect on the weekend.

  Stéphane handed Lukas’s business card to Rose.

  “Call his cell number,” I said. “Today was his last day at Optimum.”

  Kyle brought a tray of coffee mugs into the sunroom, and Stéphane and I sipped coffee as Rose took out her cell.

  I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Knock him dead, girl.”

  She punched a number into her phone. “This is Rose Sisto. We met at the Granite Club this morning.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Dr. Vivian Sisto ran her medical practice from a suite in a brick low-rise on Bathurst Street. At 10 the next morning, Rose was waiting for me on the third floor. She took me inside the suite and locked the door behind us.

  She had positioned a chrome name plate I had given her a few years before on the reception desk. Rose Sisto, Administrative Assistant, it read. A nice touch.

  I followed her into an office behind the reception room, where Stéphane was seated at a large metal desk. He raised a Starbucks cup in greeting.

  “Rose will talk to Lukas in here. Pat, you and I will be in the examination room next door.” He pointed to the wall on his left. “We’ll hear what they’re saying over the speaker phone. It’s on low in there.”

  He pointed to shelves at the side of the desk. “My audio recorder is behind these books,” he said.

  We went over the points we wanted Rose to cover with Lukas. When we heard knocking on the suite door, Stéphane and I hurried into the next room. I locked the door behind me, and turned off the light and my cell phone.

  I heard Rose let Lukas in.

  “Good morning, Rose,” he said. “You must be related to Dr. Vivian Sisto.”

  “My daughter.”

  He chuckled. “My mom and I will be working together, too.”

  “We’ll go into Vivian’s office,” Rose said. “It’s more comfortable in there.”

  He followed her into the office. I hoped he couldn’t hear my heart hammering through the wall.

  Over the speaker phone, we heard Rose launch into why she wanted to work with a financial planner. “I t
hought I’d like to work with a woman,” she concluded, “but some of what you said yesterday caught my interest.”

  I pictured Lukas preening like a peacock in the next room.

  “I’ve narrowed my search to a handful of advisors,” Rose went on, “and Pat Tierney, the woman you were telling me about yesterday, is one of them. I met her when she worked at Norris Cassidy.”

  “Rose, remember what I told you? Pat is in serious trouble. She won’t be in business long. She was skimming client accounts. Do you know what skimming client accounts means?”

  Beside me, I saw Stéphane shake his head. “Hang on,” he whispered.

  “Tell me what that means,” Rose said.

  “It means that Pat was siphoning earnings from her clients’ investments and reporting lower amounts. She stole her clients’ money. Do you want to work with someone who would steal from you?”

  “Where did you hear that?” Rose’s voice was sharp. “A friend of mine was Pat’s client at Norris Cassidy. She knows nothing about skimming or any other financial wrongdoing. She asked what proof there is against Pat. I want to know what proof there is, too.”

  “I’ve spoken to some of Pat’s victims,” Lukas said. “To Matt Montgomery, an 80-year-old man living on his investment earnings. He was devastated when he found out what Pat was doing. To Lorraine Comeau, a single mother. She and her two children are living off the money her uncle left them. My point is, do you want to work with a financial advisor you can’t trust? Someone who will help herself to your hard-earned money?”

  My heart was racing. I had never heard of Matt Montgomery or Lorraine Comeau. Stéphane put a hand on my arm.

  “Of course, I wouldn’t want to work with someone like that,” Rose said. “Mr. Monaghan, I want to know what you would do for me if I was your client.”

  Lukas cleared his throat. “Let me tell you what I did for a client a week ago last Wednesday. My client gave me a few hundred grand to hold in trust for her, but I saw an opportunity in the market and I went for it. I knew she’d be happy with the returns I’d make.”

  “You did this without consulting her?” Rose sounded astonished.