by Valerie Tate
“A redhead? It can’t be.” Chris ran to the front door and the others followed.
When he unlatched the door and stepped out, the door of the Porsche opened and a tall, slim woman emerged. She had shoulder-length red hair and the fair skin and blue eyes that went with it. Alicia immediately noticed her clothes - a heather-colored jacket and gray wool slacks, both immaculately cut and obviously expensive.
“Shae, is that you?” Chris called as he ran down the steps and across the lawn.
“Chris!” The woman named Shae screamed as he picked her up and swung her around. “I’ve been driving all over this hick town trying to find you.”
Alicia thought her heart actually stopped when she saw Shae kiss Chris and realized that he was kissing her back. She pretended not to see the shocked looks her parents threw her.
Arm in arm, Chris and Shae walked to the house and up the steps. Once inside, they returned to the library and he did the introductions.
“Everyone, this is Shae O’Neil, an old ... friend.” The hesitation before ‘friend’ told Alicia all she needed to know about Shae and Chris’ past. The question was, why was she here in the present?
After they’d finished with the formalities, and refreshments had been offered and declined, Chris asked what was, for Alicia, the sixty-four thousand dollar question. “What are you doing here?”
She laughed. “You mean, what is a city girl like me doing in a place like this? I could ask you the same question, darling boy.” Darling boy? “Seriously,” she went on, “your folks called me and told me what’s going on. They wanted to hire me to come and help you. Isn’t that sweet?” Chris could think of other words he’d use. “I told them that I wouldn’t hear of it. If you needed me, I’d be there. And so here I am. I just told them at the office that I needed some time off. I’m a partner, now. Did you know?”
Chris hadn’t known. He’d been ahead of her on the partnership ladder before he left and he wondered if it would bother him, but not even one pang of envy popped up and he knew that, whatever happened, leaving had not been the wrong decision.
“Congratulations. I’m really happy for you. You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks! I have,” she added matter-of-factly. “Anyway, they were great about it. Told me to take as much time as it takes. You’re still really respected there. They said if you need anything, just call and the big guns will be here. Meanwhile, you’ve got me. So what can I do? Fill me in.”
So they did, from the start right up to the discussion that they’d been having when she arrived.
She was a quick study. “Well, I agree with Alicia and I think that we need to find out all we can about Abbot and the running of the APS.”
Chris ran his fingers through his hair in an abstracted manner. “I know that, but we are at a loss as to what to do next. Our resources are limited.”
“Your resources just increased. You’ve got me. And you know, Chris, I have very few scruples. In fact, I’m a shark.”
The others thought she was joking and laughed, but Chris didn’t because, he knew she was simply stating the unvarnished truth. She had an uncanny ability to spot the weakness in an opponent, the soft underbelly, and didn’t hesitate to go in for the kill. It’s what made her a highly successful lawyer and how she had become a partner in one of the nation’s top law firms at the age of thirty.
“What do you suggest?” he asked.
“I think we need to find out all we can about the finances of the APS.”
“But how?” Alicia asked. “We can’t just go in there and ask to see the books.”
“I can.” Shae’s face had a look that Chris knew well. Her ‘killer’s instinct’ was showing. “He doesn’t know me. I’ll make an appointment with him. I’ll tell him who I am and say that I have a large corporate client who has learned of the situation from the media and that wants to make a sizable donation to help support the shelter, say, $250,000. But they’ll want to see the books first. That’s not an unusual request for a large donor to make. When he does, I’ll send them to a friend of mine. We’ve worked together a few times. He’s a forensic accountant.”
“What’s that?” James asked.
“It’s an accountant who specializes in money trails. This would be a piece of cake for him. He’s usually chasing down the financial transactions of people who launder money for the big drug cartels or corporate tycoons who divert shareholders’ money to their personal use.”
Chris wondered what kinds of cases she’d been involved in to have worked with someone like that, but he didn’t ask. There was a time when he’d had the right. But that time was long past. Instead he asked, “How would he do that?”
“His job, his problem. He has contacts everywhere. He’d compare the books to suppliers records. He’d look for sources of income that could explain the property acquisitions. He’ll follow the money. He’s the best,” she added simply.
“And the best doesn’t come cheaply.” James said quietly.
“No, he doesn’t,” she looked at him squarely, “but don’t worry about that for now. Let’s just get this guy, then we can figure out how to pay the bills.”
Chapter 40
Shae knew they didn’t have time to waste and she didn’t. She called Abbot the next morning and set up an interview for that afternoon. The mention of a sizable donation earned immediate interest and compliance.
She arrived exactly on time, wearing her most expensive, designer-labeled power suit. She could see him sizing her up - Gucci bag, Armani suit, Prada shoes. It all spelled money.
Shae, on the other hand, saw a man who was trying to hide his eagerness to acquire the large donation she’d mentioned and failing miserably.
Bill Abbot was what she called a ‘Glad-Hander’. Tall and heavily built, wearing a middle of the road suit, he had hair that was turning silver at temples and a waistline that strained a little under his belt. He had once, probably, been quite handsome, but was now a little paunchy with puffy eyes and the beginnings of a double chin. Nevertheless, he smiled broadly and greeted her effusively, looking deeply into her eyes and holding her hand just a little too long.
“What a welcome surprise to meet you. It seems amazing to me, Miss O’Neil, that someone as young and beautiful as you could already be a partner in a large law firm.”
“Not so amazing, Mr. Abbot. I am amazingly good at what I do,” she said in a matter-of-fact way.
Abbot looked a little disconcerted at this blunt statement. Most women were usually a little more responsive to his attentions. “Just so. So tell me, Miss O’Neil, what is this donation that you mentioned on the phone? I believe you said, $250,000.”
Shae explained, using the story they had concocted the night before. She had already been in touch with the president of a national dog and cat food producer and persuaded him - he owed her a favor - to back them up if Abbot decided to check out their story. He had, however, added that if this blew up in their faces, he would throw them to the wolves and deny everything. She had thought that seemed fair.
As expected, Abbot was overjoyed at the prospect. “You can’t imagine, Miss O’Neil, what this will mean to our shelter. We do the best we can with the limited resources at our disposal but this money will mean we can help so many more helpless creatures.”
She smiled, understandingly. “My client is happy to help. All he asks is that I have a look at the books before he sends the check.”
The smile on Abbots face froze. “Look at the books?”
“That’s not a problem is it, Mr. Abbot? I think that it is a pretty common condition. My client simply wants to make sure that the money will be used in a way that is most beneficial to the animals.” She put on her most winning smile. “We just want to know how the Society’s income is divided - you know, what percentage goes to salaries, supplies, food, that sort of thing? That’s not a problem, is it?” she repeated a little more firmly.
“No … of course not. It’s just that our books are all on comp
uter.” He pointed to the computer as if to imply that it would consider the request to be unreasonable.
“That’s not a problem. You can simply download your books onto a disc and I can take them with me.”
“Will your accountants need much time with them?” The slight emphasis he put on accountants showed her the way.
“Oh my, no. I’m not sending them to our accountants. That’s not necessary. I’ll look them over myself and get back to you in a couple of days. It really is merely a formality but my client does insist. So, if you don’t mind ...”
He looked visible relieved. “Oh, you’re going to look them over. Well, I certainly can’t object to that, not that I would anyway. We have nothing to hide. Our books are an open … er … book,” he finished lamely and turned to the computer.
Shae arrived back at the Dunbar house in time for dinner. “Mission accomplished.”
“You got them?” Chris asked.
“Did you doubt it?” she asked with an amused look.
“Never,” He replied, and it was the truth. “Where are they?”
“I sent the disc by overnight courier. He will have it by morning and he’s promised to get right on it. We should have a preliminary report in a day or two. Of course, it will take longer than that for him to completely map out the money trail, but he’ll be able to tell us if he spots any irregularities. Don’t worry. I told you, he’s the best.”
“I just hope he’s also the fastest,” Chris said with feeling. “The case comes to court in two days.”
Chapter 41
The day of the hearing arrived with no word yet from Shae’s mysterious friend. It was a raw, blustery day and somehow that seemed appropriate. They’d had no snow as yet but the forecast said they could expect a front to move in before the week was out. Once the snow came it wouldn’t leave until spring. Huron’s winters are long and hard, drifts sometimes topping the telephone poles. Once it came, any hope of finding Marmalade alive would be gone.
Because of the adverse publicity they had already endured, Dave had requested a closed hearing. The judge had denied this and the courtroom was packed with press and curiosity seekers. The atmosphere wasn’t hostile, but rather maliciously amused. A woman Chris recognized from the convenience store near his apartment told everyone within earshot that, “This will be better than the Enquirer”.
Judge Palmer he knew, from previous experience in his court, to be a just man, precise, methodical, and a stickler for the rules of procedure. His was a no-nonsense court and it was to his credit that no appeal had ever successfully been lodged on the grounds of judicial error. The hearing would be fair, Chris knew, but he also knew that, should they lose, he would be merciless towards an attorney found guilty of breach of trust. Only training and strength of will kept the confident smile on Chris’ face as he consciously relaxed his shoulders and spine. After all, he was telling the truth. He had nothing to hide.
Being on the other side of the legal bench was a new experience for Chris and not one he was eager to repeat. The family put up a good front, but he could feel Alice and Alicia cringe with mortification when the terms of the will were read aloud. The judge threatened several times to have the courtroom cleared if the spectators could not control their mirth. By lunch recess a comprehensive picture of the Dunbar family life prior to and just after the death of Amanda Dunbar had been detailed for the court. That it was as out-of-date as the Model-T had not been made apparent. That would be their job. It would be uphill work.
When court resumed at two o’clock, it was to hear testimony from Officer Carnegie as to the events of the night Marmalade disappeared. He was concise and professional, expressing not even an implied opinion.
Jarrod Inglis then called Mrs. Short. She was in her glory. She fairly crackled with excitement and righteous indignation. “... and to hear the screams from that poor animal, it would break your heart.”
Mutterings and contemptuous looks from the spectators were silenced by the judge’s gavel.
“Mind you, it wasn’t the first time I heard that poor animal yowl.”
More mutterings, louder gavel.
“Why, one night, they were having a party or some such thing. I mean, I wasn’t invited so I couldn’t be sure exactly what kind of goings on they were, but that poor creature screamed something awful. Fairly curdled the blood in my veins and made the hair on my neck stand up.”
Mutterings becoming ugly, and so was the gavel.
“And then didn’t I hear half-crazy laughter …?”
Dead silence all around.
“Oh, yes, I could tell who was laughing.”
Group inhale.
“It was her, Mrs. Alice Dunbar!”
Group exhale.
“She always hated that cat. I wouldn’t put it past her to laugh while she tortured the life out of it ...”
All eyes on Alice, who sat tight-lipped and stony-eyed under their scrutiny.
“Sorry, your Honor. I’m sure I didn’t mean to slander anyone. I’m just telling what I heard and saw. No one could ever accuse me of malicious gossip, let me assure you. I’m not one to be spreading false stories. But when I see something suspicious going on, and hear all that screaming and hollering, I say to myself, ‘Gladys, it’s your duty as a citizen and an animal lover to speak out against whatever unholiness is going on in that nest of vipers’ ...”
General sniggering.
“I beg your pardon, your Honor … No, sir ... Yes, sir ... whatever is happening next door, and that’s all I have to say ... so help me God,” she added brightly.
She was the last witness of the day. Court recessed and they went home.
Mrs. Stuart had made them a lovely dinner that no one really tasted, and then they all went to the library where Chris filled Shae in on what had happened in court. She hadn’t gone in order to keep her ties with them a secret from Abbot.
Shae didn’t mince her words. “Well that was pretty damaging.”
The rest nodded glumly.
“Still, it’s early on, and despite that woman’s testimony, there is no evidence that you have done anything to the cat. And it’s up to them to prove that you have.”
“And they can’t prove that because it didn’t happen,” Alicia snapped.
Before anyone else could respond, Shae’s cell phone rang. “This could be it,” she said as she ran to her purse.
“Hi, it’s me. So what did you find?” She was silent, listening for a few minutes, and then turned to Chris. “Do you have a fax machine?” she asked uncertainly.
“Yes, at my apartment. Why?”
“What’s the number?” she asked without answering his question. When he gave it to her, she repeated it to the person at the other end of the line, “You’ll send it right away? And e-mail me a copy as well. That’s great. Call me when you know more. Bye” She turned off the phone, and seeing their anxious faces, grinned and said, “Abbot is toast!”
The room erupted into excited shouts of “I knew it!”, “He did it!”, “Of course he did it!” When it had died down, they asked Shae for all the gory details.
“Well, he’s only completed a preliminary survey - he’s faxing it right now - but he says the books have definitely been doctored, and what’s more, the guy has done a lousy job. A simple check with previous sponsors shows large discrepancies in the amounts of donations, even in the amounts of government funding. There are notations of payments made to suppliers, but when he checked with the companies named, they have no record of the transactions listed. In some cases, where there are records of shipments, the amounts listed in the records are significantly higher than what was actually paid out. There is also a considerable amount of money on the books for renovations and additions to the shelter two years ago.”
“That shelter is only seven years old. There haven’t been any additions.” James said.
“So where could that money have gone?” Alicia asked.
“I can think of one place,” Chris said. “Ja
mes, didn’t you say that Abbot had built a new house two years ago?”
“So he did.”
Shae smiled. “I’ll pass that information on later.”
“The question is, what do we do with this information? It doesn’t prove that Abbot had anything to do with the disappearance of Marmalade,” Alice asked of no-one in particular.
“No, it doesn’t, but it does give him a really good motive.” Chris said.
“You’re right. He said this is such a sloppy job that it would certainly have come out in an audit. It would be interesting to know if one is scheduled any time soon,” Shae mused thoughtfully.
Chris stood up. “I’ll see if Dave can find out, and I’ll bring the report over tomorrow after court and we can decide then what we want to do with it.”
Chapter 42
Following Mrs. Short’s testimony, Chris had consoled himself with the thought that at least it couldn’t get much worse.
That really was tempting Providence.
He’d become used to sight-seers, busy-bodies and the odd picket hanging around the Dunbars’ house, but he wasn’t prepared for what he found when he arrived for breakfast before court the next morning.
The tour busses were parked at the side of the road and about 150 men, women and children carrying signs and banners were marching up and down in front of the house. P.A.W.W. had arrived.
P.A.W.W. - Protecting Animal Welfare Warriors, the most strident and militant of all the strident and militant animal rights activists, had cut their teeth on the Save the Seals campaign, moved on to the crusade against the use of animals in medical research and for chemical testing, and were now operating internationally to end all use of animal flesh as meat or animal skins for any purpose. In Canada they were currently lobbying to have animal welfare included in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, to have the unwarranted killing of animals considered and dealt with as murder, and for offenders to be treated accordingly. The same group was responsible for the Crusade Against Cruelty to Chickens and other Living Entities - or CACCLE – Bill, designed to prevent the killing of chickens and other birds for meat, and a hot debate was raging over whether a fertilized hen’s egg was a living being.