“I think she’s secretly okay with reading a genre book. She just doesn’t want to hear you talk about the anatomical possibilities of love scene positions.”
“Or Herman.”
“Oh, you were just talking about that male blowup doll to embarrass her,” Holly said with a laugh.
Laurie had claimed Herman kept her warm without snoring or hogging the covers. And the optional accessory pack…entertained her.
“It worked.” A wicked grin probably went with Laurie’s delighted tone.
“I gotta go. See you tomorrow.” Holly clicked off her cell and placed it on her desk beside the newspaper. While the computer finished its start-up routine, she glared at the headline.
Defective Part Caused Wreck at Extreme Sporting Event.
As of last night, that hadn’t been definitively proven. No way did the paper have access to the investigators’ report before George and Tate did. The article was heavy on quotes from an unnamed source—probably the jerk who’d started the fight with Tate.
It got worse.
She sank into her chair and rubbed her forehead as she read the rest. According to the reporter, speculation was running rampant on the circuit. The paper quoted their unnamed source as saying, “Complete crap. Cheap material can’t cut it on the course. Design’s stupid as hell. Everybody knows you can’t modify a Ford’s suspension. Tate Price thought he could pull a fast one out here. Well, first time it runs, the thing breaks. Guess that tells you everything you need to know.”
Damn.
According to Tate, the part might possibly be a copy of their product made with substandard materials. But no one else should know that theory. It wasn’t official. So, how was this reporter—or his unnamed source—saying that?
The unnamed source laid the blame for the bad part squarely on Tate. “I never trusted him. Undercutting his partner is exactly the kind of [expletive deleted] he’s known for.”
Expletive deleted, my ass. Holly’s hands tightened into fists. Yeah, expletive deleted character assassination.
She grabbed her cell and Googled the phone number for the newspaper office. Finger poised above their contact information, she changed her mind and pulled up her personal contact list, instead. She scrolled through the list to Walt Chambers.
Seconds later, she connected to the attorney. “Did you see that article today?”
“Hello to you, and which article?” he replied.
She gave him a concise update. “No one on the circuit thinks Tate’s a cheat or unethical. Well, no one except that idiot who jumped him after falsely accusing him of sabotaging Shaw’s rig.”
“We’re talking about the guy you bailed out Monday morning?”
“Yes, my cousin, Tate Price. The idiot is the guy who’s making all these wild claims in the newspaper. Tate said his name’s Randy Kapaska. Of course, I can’t say for sure he’s the one running his mouth to the press. But Randy wanted the Chen ride in the Boulder Bounders event. So, clearly he has motive.”
“Whoa. You just lost me.”
She took a breath and backed up. “Okay, George Chen was one of the sponsor for Boulder Bounders, the rockcrawler event going on over in Franklin County. He also had a truck entered in the event. Randy was seriously pissed when George asked Tate to be the driver. But Tate isn’t going back on the circuit. Driving was strictly for publicity for his new part.” She waved a dismissive hand, knowing Walt couldn’t see it. “That’s not the point. My question is, is this newspaper article actionable?”
There was a pause, probably while Walt found his own copy of the article. “I’d want to look into it, but in my opinion, it’s defamation.”
“I know we’ve occasionally traded information and clients, but I think it’s time Tate and I officially talk to you, retain counsel.”
“Have him call and set up an appointment.”
“Will do.” She scribbled a note. “Tell me about defamation.”
“Defamation includes both slander and libel. In the legal sense, slander is verbal—the things Randy Kapaska, if he is their unnamed source, told the reporter. Then the question becomes whether the newspaper committed libel in printing it.”
She made notes as he talked.
“A lawsuit can be difficult,” Walt continued. “Damages for both slander and libel may be limited to actual damage, unless there’s malicious intent.”
She dropped the pen onto her desk. “Clearly it’s malicious and the damages are all the lost sales due to the negative publicity.”
“Maybe. Slander can be hard to prove, but untrue accusations of having committed a crime are slander per se since the harm and malice are obvious. Suing this Randy character may still be counterproductive. Odds are he has limited funds and Tate didn’t hear the guy make the statements. The way the newspaper worded his statements, they could be read as only the unnamed source’s opinion.”
Holly blew out an exasperated breath. “They can print anything without having to actually investigate and figure out if it’s true? Just call it an opinion?”
“Usually they have to substantiate a claim before printing it. We don’t know the full picture at this point.”
Frustration buzzed through her. “I’ll bet they don’t have anyone as a source except that Randy jerk—a guy who has plenty of motive to ruin Tate.”
“The paper can protect a source, but if this article’s claim is untrue, I’ll be more than happy to hit them with a lawsuit. I don’t like seeing people smeared.”
They wrapped up the conversation and she drummed her fingers. Was JC—or the cops—taking Randy’s words seriously? Was that why JC kept harping on Tate’s supposed involvement in the alleged sabotage? Or did the reporter have a source inside the sheriff’s department who was feeding him their theory?
Why would JC listen to an idiot like Randy Kapaska and not to her?
She fumed a few minutes, trying to decide what to do next. Call JC? Call Tate? Would Tate be at work yet? If she didn’t talk with him now, she wouldn’t see him until dinner, and she wanted to arrange the meeting with Walt.
Tate had worked so hard to get to this point. When it was all poised to take off, it was so unfair that other people were making it blow up in his face.
“Good morning, Sweetie.” Donna Price hurried into her office.
“Double standard much?” The words popped out before Holly’s filter engaged.
“What?” Confusion twitched Donna’s eyebrows together. “Oh. I guess that nickname does seem undignified.”
Holly propped her elbow on her desk and cradled her forehead in her palm. “What’s up, Mom?”
A smile lit Donna’s voice. “I guess I deserved that. How about we make a fresh start. Good morning, Holly. We need to talk about accounts receivable.”
Holly tilted her head and peeked at her mother. “What about them?”
“With the new business—which is great—we have a lot piling up that hasn’t been collected.”
Holly massaged her temples. “Are you saying I need to go be a bill collector?”
“No, my people can take care of it. I just wanted you to know about the cash flow problem.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t like Holly was taking much of a draw against the company’s profits as it was.
Donna sat in the visitor chair and placed her notepad on the desk. “Now, I’ve run year-to-date payroll. We’re coming up on our busiest months and we’re already incurring a lot of overtime cost.”
Groaning, Holly straightened and stretched. “I’ve mentioned hiring someone several times.”
“What would you think about hiring a temp through busy season? It will be expensive, but less than the overtime and less wear and tear on our staff.”
“Good idea.” Holly nodded. “It’ll also give us a chance to evaluate them as a potential permanent hire. Is there an agency here that handles accounting people?”
“Several do. I’ll set up a meeting for next week.” Donna drew in a deep breath. “Last item.”
Holly braced herself.
“Your dad wants alimony.”
“What?” Holly slammed her hands against the desk. “He wants alimony on top of us buying him out? He should be paying you. Beyond the obvious fact that he’s the one who walked out, if he’d get off his ass and get a job, he has the higher earnings capacity.”
“My attorney didn’t use exactly those words, but she agrees.” A smile brightened Donna’s eyes. “Your father claims, and I quote, ‘He is unable to meet his essential needs without financial assistance from a spouse who can afford to pay it.’“
“No. Just, no.”
“He claims there isn’t a suitable accounting firm near where he currently resides.”
“Then he can move his happy ass.” Unable to sit still, Holly pushed to her feet. “And what about his honey? Why isn’t she supporting him?”
“They’re seeking spiritual enlightenment with the shaman.” Humor laced Donna’s voice.
“Glad you find this amusing.” Holly paced to the window, turned and pointed at her mother. “Part of enlightenment is learning to live off the land or some other...nonsense, isn’t it?”
Donna ignored the outburst. “The judge could look at his current income and needs and award him something, but he’s voluntarily underemployed. My attorney said no judge around here is going to grant him alimony.” She picked up the notepad. “But your dad could demand a draw from the accounting firm based on his ownership percentage.”
Holly’s mouth fell open but no words emerged. “B-b-but. He didn’t earn any of the current cash. What little there is of it.” She frowned. “That’s why you were looking at the receivables and cash flow. You think we’re going to have to pay him.”
“His position is, most of the current activity is with clients he brought into the firm. My attorney is looking at it. Her first line of defense is going to be he’s capable of working, but she also said in the short term we might have to be prepared to pay him until he can find a job.”
“God damn him. If we have to pay him, it’s coming out of what we have to give him for the practice.”
“My sentiments exactly.” Donna rose and left the office.
Holly stormed around the desk. She really, really wanted to throw something, stomp her feet or burst into tears. None of the choices were helpful.
Bad enough her dad had brain-farted and walked out, but wanting alimony?
Which brought on another annoying thought.
Why did she know more about her parent’s divorce than JC’s? He hadn’t even discussed his divorce from Meredith except to say the marriage was a mistake. Like that was a newsflash to anybody.
And as long as she was venting—if only to herself, dammit—why had Frank, of all people, dragged her into the DEA’s investigation?
How had she gotten trapped in the middle of this huge, freaking impossible mess?
Noise at her office door brought her head up.
Rick entered, focused on the sheaf of papers in his hands. “You ready to talk about the staff schedule for next week? It’s so crazy busy, I had to print it out to make sense of it.” He stopped just inside her office. “What’s wrong?”
“What makes you think something’s wrong?” She forced her lips into the semblance of a smile.
“You’re pacing.”
Yeah. That.
Dead giveaway.
And damn, she was slipping if she was visibly losing control. “Everything’s fine.”
Rick reached over and closed the door. “No, it isn’t. I’ve watched you work for months now. This is not normal behavior. I thought we were in this together.”
Thank God she had Rick on her team. She jerked out her desk chair and collapsed into it. “Okay. We have a problem.”
Lots of problems.
“Care to expand on that?” He lifted the scheduling folder. “The staff are busy, business is booming, no one’s shot at you recently, and your love life appears to finally be on the upswing.”
“Oh, well. When you put it like that.” She raked a hand through her hair. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
“What’s bothering you?” He sank into the visitor’s chair with that look guys got when they were afraid you were going to say something personal and therefore embarrassing. “If it’s work related...”
Even if he’d become a good friend, no way was she burdening him with her issues. She scrolled through her personal crisis list and landed on the one she could share. “George Chen called. Danny Shaw’s family is already talking about a wrongful death suit.”
“No surprise.” Rick folded his arms over the file. “No offense to George, but other than Desert Accounting maybe losing a client to bankruptcy, how is this a big enough problem for us that you’re in here pacing?”
Holly toyed with her blotter. “He feels threatened, so he’s pointing upstream at us.”
“Again. This affects us how?”
“If the new suspension part’s no good, and he can prove it’s the sub-assembly from the vendor we recommended, it may shift some liability.”
“Liability for what? The wreck?” Rick nodded at the newspaper. “That article is all speculation. I heard the suspension failed, but was it George’s part? Where did it fail? Has anything been proven?”
“No.” She swiveled her chair and looked out the window at the traffic at the mall. “But I understand why George is freaking out. The company he’s worked his ass off to build is being threatened. A wrongful death suit—and the product getting killed in the marketplace—could ruin him.”
“Bad analogy.”
“Bite me.”
She could relate to George’s fear. What if Desert Accounting was sued for more than their business liability coverage? Would everything she’d worked her ass off for go down in flames?
How would a lawsuit impact her if she bought Desert Accounting…?
If Desert Accounting appeared to be on the hook for part of the liability related to Shaw’s death, it could hurt her ability to bring in new work, new clients.
She tapped her fingers against the chair arms. Of course, it might also be a good excuse to claim a lower value for the company for her father.
She turned away from the window. “No one seems to know where the suspension failed. But Tate told me the preliminary report is back, and it might be their design.”
The rest of the potential disaster about someone possibly copying it, or it maybe being a manufacturing material screw-up—and please dear God, don’t let it be the subassembly she was involved with—could wait. “George is trying to get hold of the actual part from Shaw’s rig so he can see what happened.”
“George can worry—”
“Rightfully so.”
“—about his own company’s liability. Why is he blaming you?”
Her computer chimed a meeting notice. She glanced at the screen. “A while back, I heard he wanted to expand, to keep jobs in the Tri-Cities, and was looking to diversify. When Tate contacted me about finding a company to manufacture his part, George was the first person I recommended.”
A smile lit Rick’s face. “I remember talking to George after that preliminary meeting. He was stoked about the possibility. I think the extreme sport circuit was part of the appeal.”
“Boys and toys,” she muttered. She clicked the notification on her computer, resetting it to a five-minute warning. “Anyway, Cascade Precision didn’t have the capacity to make the entire part. They make the complicated stuff here—Tate mentioned the valve system. There are probably other pieces. So, George and Tate chose a non-critical subassembly to outsource.”
“Which is where we came in.”
She nodded. “You were buried in that Lipansky project. How much did you hear about George’s vendor search?”
Rick scratched his cheek, his expression considering. “They’d narrowed it to two suppliers and wanted our—your—help with the analysis.”
“Both suppliers produced parts that met the technical sta
ndards.” She shrugged. “One was less expensive. I turned in the financial report. George chose the vendor and he decided to use the cheaper one.”
“Where’s our liability then?”
She shook her head. “When I talked to him, he claimed my advice was an endorsement of a substandard component and an incompetent vendor.”
Rick sighed. “He doesn’t even know if that’s what failed.”
“I know.” Weariness laced her voice. “This accident... It’s pushing George to the breaking point.”
It was pushing her there too.
“This is a problem,” Rick said, “but I still don’t see anything that would make you pace, much less break.”
She rocked the computer mouse and checked her calendar, stalling. She needed to talk to Rick about the future, and this was as good a time as any. “We need to talk.”
“About?” Concern—and worry—bled through his careful response.
“There may be some changes around here.” She turned to face him.
“What kind of changes?”
“What I’m about to tell you is strictly confidential.”
He straightened, as if bracing himself. “Okay.”
“I might buy out my father. I’m looking at a lot of factors, but you’re an important part of the decision.”
“Me?” Shock played across Rick’s features.
“I know you said you don’t want to be a partner, but you have a big role here. The last thing I want to do is pressure you…” She knew she was putting herself in a terrible negotiating position, but Rick was a friend, as well as an element in her business plan. “I’d like you to take over more of the audit practice. I can invent a new title for you. Set up a phantom equity plan if you don’t want real stock. But I need to know that you’ll stay if I take over the practice.”
Rick gave her a measuring look. “I knew you’d have to decide sooner or later which way to go with the practice. I kept thinking your dad would get over his…midlife crisis. Something apparently brought it to a head.”
She nodded, but stayed quiet.
“I like working with you. I like the new business you’re focusing on. It gives me more freedom with the existing work, and I’ve kinda enjoyed taking a bigger role there.” He rocked back, fingers locked around his upraised knee. “I should give you some grief, just because, but this is serious. You don’t have to invent a fancy new title for me right now. I think it’s the marketing part of the partner role I don’t want. You’re good at that. You do that part and I’ll stay in the background and manage the work.”
In It For the Money Page 11