Vested Interest (Flynn Family Book 3)

by Kayt Miller

  I nod. “What kind of complaint?” I know exactly who did this and why.

  She clears her throat, “Sexual harassment.”

  “Gretchen?”

  “I can’t say. But I can give you the list of occurrences.”

  Janice slides a piece of paper toward me that’s been neatly printed. The only problem? There are typos running throughout the document. “Only Gretchen would present a document with so many mistakes,” I grumble. I read through the list, and I nearly choke.

  • Contantly touching me.

  That should be Constantly not Contantly.)

  • Says inappropriate things to me like wanting me to be in a sex sandwich with his brother.

  I scoff at that one. A sex sandwich?

  “You think this is funny, Dave?” asks Jodi.

  “Kind of. Yeah. She’s talking about Hank and me.” I continue reading her list.

  “Jesus,” she sputters. Jodi knows Hank. She loves my brother; thinks he’s the most loyal and protective husband she’s ever seen. So she knows Hank would never make a ‘sex sandwich’ with anyone but his wife.

  • Walked in on my while I was in the shower. (my?)

  • Walked in on me when I was using the restroom.

  • Always asking me to work late, so we’re alone.

  I can’t read the rest of the list because it’s complete and utter bullshit. “This is total and complete bullshit.”

  Jodi looks over her glasses at me. A look that says…prove it.

  “I’ve got proof.”

  Jodi’s expression changes quickly to surprise. “I’ve got documentation.” I pull out my little notebook with every date and time that she touched me, said dirty shit to me, and walked into my bathroom.

  Jodi takes the book from my hand. “She’s got a similar list. This isn’t going to be much help. She’s Lester’s niece.”

  “Yeah, well how ‘bout audio and video?”

  Jodi’s face lights up, and there’s a slight smile forming on her lips. “You’ve got video?”

  “Hank set it up. Janice warned me that she might do this.”

  Barely audible, I hear Jodi mumble, “Thank fuck.” She clears her throat and adds, “Can I get copies of everything?”

  Sure thing. I pull my phone out and access the app. It allows me to forward the footage to email if needed. I select all the video files and email it to her. “The bathroom was audio only for obvious reasons. The recorder for that is in my bathroom. I can download the audio files for you as soon as I get back upstairs.”

  Jodi has already opened her email and has clicked on the first video. “What’s Lester doing going through your desk?”

  “I don’t know. That was weeks ago. If you keep watching, he takes pictures of some of my papers as well.”

  “Interesting.”

  I watch her click her mouse on other files. She nods and smiles throughout. “This is unbelievable. I’ve had it with her. You’re the third guy she’s accused. You’re the first to have proof she’s full of shit. Do I have your permission to keep these and use them as needed?”

  “You do.”

  “Go back to work. I’ll be in touch.” She turns back to her screen, “Oh, and get me the audio from the bathroom.”

  “I will.”

  As I leave her office, I hear her pick up her phone, “Gretchen? I need you in my office. Now.”

  I didn’t see her upstairs. I wonder where’s she’s hiding now.

  Back in my office, I look at the mess at my desk. I sigh. “This is the last place I want to be.” I pull my phone out of my jacket and send a text to Cassandra.

  Me: I know I told you I’d give you time but can you meet me for lunch. Things are going down here at work, and I need a confidant.

  I don’t have to wait long.

  Cass: Sure. Doc B’s? Noon?

  Me: Perfect. C U there.

  I love that place and Cassandra knows it. Their Wedge burger is better than sex. Well, it used to be better than sex until I had sex with Cass. Nothing is better than sex with Cassandra Darrow. Shit, I’m getting a hard on. Stop thinking about Cass and Wedge burgers.

  Chapter 29: Cassandra

  Meeting David for lunch is probably a bad idea. I’m not ready to jump back into bed with him. I’d like to, but that would be too hasty. He’s still got some groveling to do, because honestly, I’m still a little wounded. I’ll get over it. I always do.

  I get to Doc B’s a little early so I can get us a table. This time of day, it’s nearly impossible to get one. I’m in luck and only have to wait fifteen minutes. I text David to let him know I’ve already got a table and stay on my phone until he arrives to give me something to do. I check the updates on all of the financial websites I’ve got saved. I’ve set up a filter that will flag any articles about Beranger. When I click open my browser, I see there are a least twenty new articles listed.

  I scan the headlines and find a new one:Beranger Aeronautics Lies Cause Losses in the Millions for Chicago-based Companies.

  I quickly read through the article for a list of those affected. When I see Ingot Investment Management, I freeze. David’s name is listed in the article. “What the hell?”

  “Hey, Cass. What’s wrong?” David says as he pulls his chair out.

  “Read this!” I hand him my phone and watch. He said he didn’t invest, but maybe he did.

  “What the fuck is this!” he shouts. He looks up at me, “This is bullshit. Who wrote this fucking piece of shit?”

  “Calm down, David. Here, give me back my phone.” I scroll back up to the top of the story and locate the reporter's name. I search the internet for the phone number for the Tribune. I hit the number and wait, “Yes, may I speak to Kevin Ross?”

  I look up and see David’s face is a bright shade of red. His leg is bouncing up and down so fast the table is vibrating. “David, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  When I hear a masculine voice on the other end of the line, I focus on the call, “Kevin Ross? Yes, my name is Cassandra Darrow. I’m David Flynn’s assistant. We just read your article…” He’s interrupted me, but I keep going. “We just read your story, and I’d like to tell you you’re going to need to print a retraction or else…”

  I’d love to put him on speakerphone, but the restaurant is packed. I lean in close to David so he can hear Mr. Ross speak, “Retraction? Why?”

  “Because Mr. Flynn did not invest in Beranger Aeronautics.”

  “According to his actual assistant, he did.” Ah, busted already.

  “Do you have a name?”

  “Confidential source.”

  “Well, I guess you give us no recourse, his attorney…”

  “Wait! Are you saying he really didn’t invest?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. You were given false information––information that will have a detrimental impact on Mr. Flynn’s business. I believe they call it defamation or I guess we could just say libel.”

  “I’ve got a memo signed by David Flynn.”

  “A memo?” I look at David, and he shakes his head. “Mr. Flynn believes you were provided with a forged document.”

  “Jesus,” Ross mutters. “Just what I need.”

  “If you’d like to interview Mr. Flynn to get the story straight…” I look up and see David nod his head. “We’d be happy to set that up with you, but it would need to be done today and printed as a retracted statement from your editor tomorrow at the latest.”

  “Fine. I’ll call you back. This a good number?”

  “It is. Oh, and Mr. Ross?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’ll need a copy of that memo.”

  “I’ll have to clear that with my boss. I’ll let you know.”

  I press the red button and look over at David. “This is getting interesting.”

  “If you call having your career shoved down the toilet by a vindictive secretary, then yeah, it’s interesting.” He grabs his napkin and sets it in his lap. “Let’s eat.
I need food. I haven’t eaten since the night before last. Besides, I wanted to see you.” He smiles softly. “I’ve missed you. I’m so sorry about the other night.”

  “I know.” But I’m not ready to forgive entirely. I’m working on it.

  The server arrives, and David orders his burger with sweet potato fries. I order the Black Tiger Shrimp Salad. After the server leaves, I feel a hand over mine. He’s leaned over the table and placed his big hand over my smaller one. “I mean it, Cass. I’m sorry.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  Over lunch, David tells me about Gretchen’s attempt to pin a sexual harassment claim on him. “You showed the videos to Jodi?”

  “I did. I’ll need to get the audio from the bathroom too. I’ll do that when I go back to the office.”

  We stop talking as our food gets delivered. When the server steps away, I continue, “I can’t believe all this is happening, David. What happened to IIM?”

  “Gretchen happened, and I think Lester happened.”

  “Funny you should mention Lester.”

  “Yeah?” he asks leaning forward.

  “Before I quit, there was a rumor going around about him. As a rule, I ignored rumors, but now that we’re sitting here dealing with this, it may be relevant.”

  “Rumors?”

  “You know, the assistants talk,” I take a sip of my water. “Anyway, the talk revolved around the fact Lester was losing his touch. The board of directors had been pressuring him to either step aside as President and Chairman of the Board, you know retire, or finally land some huge deal.”

  He nods as he bites into his burger. “Makes sense. I don’t remember the last time Lester scored big.”

  I nod too. “What if Lester is the one who lost money?”

  “That makes sense and works with my earlier theory that I’m being set up.”

  “Would he go to this length to pin this on you? There’s a digital trail for every transaction. You’d have to use your broker user name and I.D. to make any purchases or trades.”

  He stops chewing, “Motherfucker.”

  “What?”

  “I keep all of my passwords in that desk drawer. They’re locked up, but that wouldn’t stop Lester or Gretchen.”

  “Did you have any footage of that?”

  He pulls out his phone and presses a few things. “There’s a lot on here I haven’t seen yet. Housekeeping triggers this all the time. I started to become complacent. Okay. I’m going back to around the time they went public.”

  I watch him and wait, holding my breath. I still haven’t had a bite of food yet.

  I raise my fork to taste when he growls, “Motherfucker.”

  I set my utensil down. “What?” he turns the phone to me, and I watch as both Gretchen and Lester pick the lock on his bottom desk drawer. Once they get in, they dig around until they find his small password book. They leaf through it, and once they find something they want, they snap a picture. “Have you checked your accounts lately?”

  “Not in the last couple of days. But…” he says raising his finger up. “None of my personal account passwords are listed there. The only thing I have in there relates to client accounts.”

  “That’s enough though. He could have cleaned out everyone you represent.”

  “Motherfucker,” he groans. “This is getting serious.”

  “What we need to do, besides getting that retraction printed, is hack into the computer system. Those two will have left a lovely trail of breadcrumbs. It wouldn’t be difficult to get a paper trail. Too bad we don't’ know a computer genius,” I smirk because we do know a computer genius. Actually, we know two of them.

  “Ernie. We’ll call Ernie and Mary Claire. They’ll be able to get what we need.”

  I nod and smile, “Call them after lunch. The sooner we get what we need, the better off you are because right now, David, you’re goose is cooked.”

  His head lifts up quickly and looks at my face. “It is, isn’t it?”

  I nod. “It is.”

  Chapter 30: David

  Cassandra and I work out a game plan over lunch. She’ll return to her place and gather up any and all research she’s done on Beranger. I’m heading back to the office to get the newspaper article about the IPO that shows her illustrated notations in the margins and dig around my desk for anything else pertinent. I’ll also get the digital audio device from the bathroom and download the files so I can email them to myself, Jodi, and to Cassandra.

  I’m also tasked with calling my cousin Ernie Flynn before I get to the office. Ernie’s a computer nerd in the highest order. He’s a little socially awkward, but if you saw him in a room of Flynn men, you’d never notice. He fits in with all of us perfectly. The point is, the guy knows everything about computers from programming to hacking. I’m going to make sure we’re very stealthy about this. I certainly don’t want a federal charge of hacking on my resume.

  I press his name on my contacts list and hope he picks up. “Yeah?”

  I chuckle. “I don’t get a standard greeting? Just ‘yeah’?”

  “Yeah. What’s up cuz?”

  No need to beat around the bush, “I need a big favor. One that you don’t want to mention to anyone else?”

  “Uh, are you into drugs or something? I can’t read minds. What do you need?”

  “Can you meet me in an hour? I’d rather not talk about this over the phone.”

  “Jesus,” he grumbles, “Yeah. Where?”

  “Starbucks on Hubbard and North Clark. Right by your office.”

  “Okay.”

  He hangs up before I can say anything else. See? Awkward.

  I jog down the block toward IIM. I need to get in and get out before I see Lester or Gretchen. When I get to my floor, I’m shocked at how quiet everything is, and it’s only two o’clock. I practically slither into my office and slowly shut the door locking it behind me. I get to my desk and find the article first. I then look through each paper one by one to see if I’ve got anything else on top that can help us.

  I don’t seem to see anything else until I get about a third of the way down. “What the fuck is this?”

  It’s a memo from me to Lester dated one day before Beranger went public.

  “Holy shit. Where do I start with this?” First of all, there are so many spelling errors in this thing I know it was written by Gretchen. ‘They’re going to the stock market tomorrow?’ I run my fingers through my hair because I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I quickly make several copies of the memo and then highlight the errors in one of them. “Ever heard of spell check, Gretch? Jesus, This is fucking embarrassing.”

  I grab the digital recorder from the bathroom; grab my laptop, keys, the memos, and the newspaper with Cassie’s notes. As I pass Gretchen’s desk, I see her IIM laptop sitting open on her desk. I grab that as well. Technically, she works for me. I need to make sure she’s doing as I ask, am I right?

  Just as I’m about to turn the corner toward the elevators I hear voices. “Fuck. Lester.” I duck into an alcove that’s obscured by a tall bookcase. I hold my breath and attempt to listen.

  Lester speaking, “I know. I know. This is serious business. I had high hopes for the boy, but he’s put us in a compromising position. He’ll need to go before the board. I’m afraid there will be serious consequences.”

  “Should we notify the Securities and Exchange Commission? He may have violated more than our trust,” says Pete Valley, Vice Chairman of the board of directors.

  “I’m afraid we may have to call them. Sad, sad state of affairs,” says lying sack of shit, Lester Ingot.

  The voices get quieter the further they move away. I duck out of the niche and race to the elevator. I hit the down button but decide the stairs are a safer bet. I start moving down the steps two at a time. “Shit. I need to get to the gym.” These steps are kicking my ass.

  I beat Ernie to the Starbucks and work on a list of things we need to accomplish while there’s still time. My phone
chimes with a text from Cassie.

  Cassie: Kevin Ross called. Meeting set up with Ross and editor for 5 pm tonight.

  Me: Got it. Waiting for Ernie at Starbucks on Hubbard and North Clark.

  Cassie: On my way.

  Great. Ernie is going to respond much better to her. She’s got a way with people; something that I seem to lack.

  Chapter 31: Cassandra

  Walking into David’s place is surreal. It seems like forever ago that I was here; as he took care of me after Jennifer went nuts on me and we were, um, intimate. I suck in a deep breath and head into his dining area. “Should we work here?” I ask before sitting down at the table.

  “Sure. Good idea. Need anything? Hungry?”

  “Just water, please.”

  Coming around the corner from his kitchen, David’s already pulled off his jacket and tie. He hands me the bottled water as he opens one for himself. “Where should we start?” he asks sifting through the prints of Lester’s emails.

  “Emails. But, now that we know Lester’s email address, I think we should see what he’s been up to today.”

  “Agreed.” David opens up the IIM web mail server and types in Lester’s username and password. He turns the laptop to me so we can view his account at the same time.

  “Wow, he’s been busy,” I deadpan.

  “He certainly has. I need to check my email. I have a feeling I’m going to be summoned to an emergency board meeting.” I watch as David opens up another window on his browser. He types in his username and password, and sure enough, he’s got emails from the Chief Financial Officer of IIM and the Vice Chairman of our Board of Directors, Peter Valley. “They want to see me today.”

  “Well, I think you need to get your ducks in a row before meeting up with anyone. We need to get to the bottom of this so you can meet with them with the truth and the proof.”

  “I agree. I’ll reply, but I’ll be vague.” As he types I sort through the emails putting them in order by date and time. “I told them I was out of the office and have an appointment at five. Let’s see what they do with that.”