CHAPTER 16
There was only one person besides the whistle-blower who might be able to tell her who broke the story. Samantha Dunhill. Sam wrote the celebrity gossip column for one of the local rags. She knew who-was-who and what-was-what in the Valley of the Sun and was a close friend of Jordan’s mother. The two of them shared a mutual passion for the fine art of gossip.
Sam answered on the second ring. Jordan didn’t waste even a nanosecond. “Sam. Jordan. I need your help.”
“Jordan, dear, whatever is the matter?” Samantha’s voice was shrill with alarm.
“No. No. It’s nothing personal. No one’s sick or hurt.”
“Oh, thank God. You scared me there for a second.”
“There’s a story on the front page of this morning’s paper about the Brenners. Can you find out who the source was?”
“Well, certainly not easily,” Samantha sighed.
“Please. My reputation could be on the line. Tell them it’s life or death.” That wasn’t far from the truth. Her reputation might be shot already. Who would hire her if they thought she leaked the story? Not one single person. It was imperative she find the source of the betrayal.
“Oh, sweetie, you’re such a drama queen. You’re Mary Welsh’s daughter, all right.”
That’s right. Kick me when I’m down.
“I’ll see what I can do, honey. No promises. Talk to you soon. Kiss. Kiss.”
When Jordan arrived at the office, both Gina and Eddie were already there.
It was almost noon and Gina, the miracle worker Jordan knew her to be, already had the office cleaned up and running.
“How did you do all this so fast?” Jordan stopped beside Gina’s desk. “Were you here at the crack of dawn?”
Gina turned from the monitor. “Crack of dawn? Why, yes, I was.” Dark half-moons of fatigue showed beneath her big brown eyes. “Pretty good carrot you guys hung out there. I’ve never flown first class. It wasn’t all me. I called in a few favors and got the equipment here by ten. Eddie stayed around to help. He hooked everything up; then I accessed the offsite backup. We still need to replace some furniture and other stuff, so we’re not a hundred percent, but we’re operational.”
“Atta girl.” They high-fived. “Make yourself some reservations.”
“Are you kidding? I already did.”
Jordan laughed. “I should have known.”
“I would have done the work without the carrot. You knew that, right? I would have done it for Uncle Eddie and for you, too.”
Jordan was touched. “I know, but there’s nothing wrong with a little bonus incentive, is there?”
“Hell no.” Gina grinned and swiveled back to the monitor.
“Gina?”
“Hmm?”
Jordan looked toward Eddie’s office. The door was closed. “Can I ask you something?” She kept her voice low, for some reason feeling what she was about to ask was a betrayal of sorts.
Sensing her boss’s nervousness, Gina gave Jordan her full attention.
“What can you tell me about Eddie?”
“Well, he’s crazy.” Gina crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out.
“Yeah. Yeah. Tell me something I don’t know. What can you tell me about, well, like, you know, his history, growing up in Ohio, before here.”
She didn’t provide an answer right away.
Gina shrugged. “It was just Eddie and my mom, Theresa. Mom’s the oldest by five years, but he takes care of her like she’s the baby. He’s the same way with my grandma. Takes real good care of her. When Eddie was eleven, his dad crossed a picket line down at the docks. He was beaten to death for his trouble.”
Jordan sucked in her breath then let it out with a small, “Oh.”
“Gruesome, huh? So they had it rough after he died. Poor, you know? Dirt poor. Grandma Rose worked two jobs, cleaning hotel rooms and waitressing. My mom says she and Eddie used to help Grandma count her tips at night. Tips made the difference whether they ate meat or beans or turnips. It’s why he’s such a big tipper.
“Grandma, she worked her fingers to the bone, but it just wasn’t enough. Eddie figured out he could earn money by running errands for people. Turns out the folks he was running errands for weren’t such great guys. Know what I mean? Crooks. Once he got in, I guess he couldn’t seem to get out. It was a place where he kind of fit in, belonged. He got in trouble a lot, and he ended up in front of a judge who gave him a choice—go to jail or go into the army. He chose the army. You know the rest.”
Jordan put her hand on Gina’s arm. “Thank you for being so open.”
“I love Uncle Eddie. He’s been real good to us. My mom’s been married three times and not one of them was worth a damn. Eddie was always there to help. He took me in hand, and when I was having problems, he brought me out here. He pays for most of my college, sees that I have what I need. He makes me feel loved and safe.
“You’re a really cool lady, Jordan—fun, nice, and fair—and this really is an exciting job, but I’d be less than honest if I didn’t admit the reason I bust my hump for you guys is because I’d do just about anything for my uncle Eddie. I owe him big-time. I don’t know a lot of the gory details about his past, just what I told you, but I say someone who takes care of his family like Eddie does, well, that’s a very good guy. A hero.”
Jordan looked away while Gina snagged a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed at her eyes.
“I know. I know he’s a good man.” Now. He’s a good man now, but what was he into before?
Jordan went into Eddie’s office. He was stretched out on the leather sofa, wearing the same clothes as the last time she saw him. He must have decided against going home after all.
His eyes were closed. His face was boyish and sweet without the intensity of his challenging dark eyes. The urge came again, less intense than the night before. The urge to let go and see what happened. She wanted to touch his face, his chest. If she was honest, she wanted to shut the door and lay down beside him.
As though reading her mind, he said in a sensuous voice that wrapped around her, “Don’t just stand there staring, beautiful. Come on over and join me.” He opened his eyes and patted the sofa. Any illusion of vulnerability vanished.
She ignored the invitation and leaned against his desk. “I’m beginning to get a bad feeling about this case. Been racking my brain trying to figure out who leaked this to the newspaper. Any thoughts?”
Eddie laced his fingers and put his hands behind his head. “My guess? The usual. Somebody on the inside talked. I’m thinking an employee.”
“I’ve asked Samantha Dunhill to check into the source. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Jordan paced, too wound up to sit down. “What am I going to say to the Brenners? They’re bound to think the disclosure came from us. They believe their employees are all loyal and true blue.”
“Fools.” Eddie narrowed his eyes comically at Gina, who stood in the doorway listening. “We know the real truth—every employee is a snake in the grass.”
Gina stuck out her tongue. “Jordan, what are you going to do if they don’t find out who leaked it?”
Jordan shrugged. “I don’t know. Try to convince them it wasn’t us.”
Eddie said, “She’ll do a little soft shoe, a little sleight of hand. Presto change-o and voilà, she’ll have them eating out of her sweet little paw in no time.”
“Presto change-o? I’m losing it here and you give me presto change-o? Sheesh!” Jordan threw up her hands and stomped off to her office.
She was sitting on the edge of her chair waiting for Sam’s call when Gina poked her head through the door. “Ryan Avery is on line one.”
She snatched up the receiver. “Ryan?”
“I’m on my way to your office. I just got off the phone with Nick. He’s fired you.” Ryan, unlike most lawyers, was never good at dancing around the subject. “We need to talk.”
“Ryan, it wasn’t me, or anyone else here. We didn’t leak it.”
> “I tried to tell him there was no reason you’d do that, but he wasn’t in the mood to listen. You’re done.”
Jordan was stunned by the turn of events. Twenty minutes later, her cellphone sounded. She grabbed it off her desk and checked the caller ID. Samantha. “Please tell me you have it.”
“That life or death thing really works, my dear. I’ll have to try it next time I need something. I’ve been told by the reporter who broke the story he was contacted by a person named Sharon Milliner from the foundation.”
Jordan sighed in relief. “You just saved my reputation. I owe you big time.”
“If you think I won’t be cashing in on it, you better think again, young lady. Give my love to your mother. Ta-ta for now.”
Jordan grabbed the employee list out of her briefcase, and sure enough, there was the nasty snitch’s name.
She stormed into Eddie’s office. He was up and working behind his desk.
“I know who leaked the story,” she waved the list under his nose, “and am I ever going to have a talk with her.”
Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back. “Yeah? We’re fired. Remember?”
Gina popped her head in. “Jordan, Ryan Avery is waiting in your office.”
Jordan and Eddie exchanged a look.
“We’ll see.” She marched out.
Ryan Avery was a hard-core ex-New Yorker. Tall and lean, he was always handsome and elegant in the pinstriped suits he favored.
She paused at the door to calm herself before going in. “Hello, Ryan. I have great news.”
He stood. “I hope your news is better than mine.”
“I found out who leaked the story. It was Sharon Milliner, the foundation’s director of development.”
“Whatever happened to employee loyalty?”
“When money’s involved, it goes right out the window.”
Ryan nodded. “Everyone has a price, some cheaper than others.”
“Maybe Nick will reconsider once he learns it was Sharon.” Jordan remained hopeful.
“Not at this point. He’s got more on his plate than he can even think about right now—the board, the media camped out in his front yard—and I just learned the district attorney’s office plans on filing charges against Nick as soon as they gather enough incriminating evidence. He doesn’t know yet. I’m trying to find the right time to tell him.” He looked at her sideways and grinned, “So try not to leak it.”
“Wicked, wicked man. Your point’s well taken. Can our fastidious DA really build a case strong enough to file charges? I mean, I’m not too shabby, and I couldn’t find anything to tie him to the missing money.”
“No, but he’s working on it. It’s a high-profile case—big money, heartless crime against a charity, a rich and celebrated suspect. All the bells and whistles. Carlen will go after it for the publicity. You know how he loves the limelight.” He cleared his throat. “Look, how do you feel about staying on the case and reporting to me? Besides all the concerns facing the foundation, I’ve got to think of Nick Brenner’s welfare. He’s not just my client, Jordan. Like you, he’s my friend. This has to be taken care of, and you’re the only one really interested in solving it. If you do it and Nick doesn’t make good on your fees, I’ll pay them.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll do it.”
Moments later, she stood in Eddie’s office doorway.
He looked up pushed back from his computer. “Well, now. Is that cream you’re licking off your whiskers? What’s up?”
“Ryan wants us to stay on the case. We’re working for him now. So I’m on my way out to solve it.”
Eddie saluted her. “I knew you’d turn things around, Houdini.”
She managed an awkward little shuffle and bow. “Presto change-o.”
CHAPTER 17
An interview in a bar was more Eddie’s style than Jordan’s, but in this case, when the subject suggested it, Jordan jumped right on it.
Flannery’s Sports Bar on Sixteenth Street in central Phoenix had a lot going for it as a meeting location.
For starters, Jordan wouldn’t have to explain her presence at the foundation interviewing a subject on a case she was supposed to have been fired from.
Then there was the fact that Sharon Milliner recommended the place, which meant she’d been there before and would be comfortable. She would relax, maybe even open up.
Lastly, Jordan had visited Flannery’s a time or two and knew their tenderloin sandwich was good enough to make your socks roll up and down on their own.
On that warm, sunny afternoon, the place was cool and dark, a typical sports bar with enough enormous monitors that at least one was visible from every nook and cranny. They were tuned to football, golf, baseball, and soccer. Flannery’s was busy, and due to the crowd and the televisions, the noise level was up there a ways.
When Jordan arrived, the hostess pointed out Sharon Milliner at the bar draining a pilsner glass.
Sharon’s shrill voice rose above the hubbub as she yelled out, “Darla, another Miller Lite!”
Jordan walked up behind her. “Make it two, please.” Sharon swiveled around and Jordan stuck out her hand. “I’m Jordan Welsh. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”
“No problem. I never pass up a free lunch.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow at Sharon’s bluntness. All righty, then.
The bartender set two chilled glasses of frothy brew in front of them. “You girls gonna have lunch?”
Jordan nodded. “The tenderloin sandwich, please.” She looked at Sharon. “You?”
“Sounds like a plan. Load it up, Darla. You know how I like it.”
Jordan picked up her beer and pointed to a booth against the wall on the far side. “Why don’t we move over there so we can have some privacy?”
Sharon shrugged. “All the same to me.” She slid off the stool and lumbered to the table with all the grace of a Mack truck.
In her late thirties or early forties, Sharon was a lot of woman, almost as tall as Jordan and built like a defensive lineman. Bet her bench press stats are impressive. Her face was strong and somewhat masculine with the exception of her eyes. Big and clear-sky-blue, fringed with lush, dark lashes, her eyes made her face almost pretty. Creases around her mouth and between her eyes gave Jordan the impression Sharon Milliner wasn’t a very happy person.
Sharon squeezed into the booth opposite Jordan and raised her beer. “Thanks for lunch.”
“You’re welcome.”
The sandwiches came with fries. Sharon’s plate included an enormous order of onion rings. Jordan hadn’t heard her order onion rings, so either Sharon Milliner was a Flannery’s regular and Darla did, indeed, know how she liked it, or the establishment was under the impression Sharon suffered from malnourishment and gave her extra food out of pity. Not.
Sharon dug in as if it had been a week or two since her last meal, while Jordan watched the carb-loading with a kind of morbid fascination.
“So, you’re the director of development?”
Sharon’s mouth was stuffed so full she could only nod.
“What does your job entail?”
Sharon took a deep pull on her beer and wiped her mouth. “I go over the applications from people asking the foundation for money. Not everybody meets the criteria, ya see. I find the ones who do and then submit them to the board of directors for a final decision.”
Sharon’s plate was a war zone. The sandwich was half gone. What was left looked as if it had exploded. The fries were already missing in action and there were only a few onion rings left. Hearty appetite.
“It must be hard to say no to folks who need help.” Jordan took a bite of her sandwich. Oh, my goodness. It was hard to keep from moaning in sheer pleasure.
Sharon nodded knowingly, “Good, eh?” and took another bite. She did stop chewing long enough to make a point. “Hard? It’s a killer to have to say no, a real heartbreaker. I wish I was the one with the green light button. Heck, if I could, I’d give all
of them money, every single family.”
Jordan was surprised by the answer. At first glance, Sharon didn’t look like someone with a tender heart, not even at second or third glance. She considered her next move as Sharon dumped ketchup on the few remaining onion rings.
“Who told you about the missing money?”
“Oh, that. It’s just the latest buzz at the office. Guess someone got caught with their hand in the till.”
“Do you know who?”
“Nah.” Sharon reached a powerful, well-muscled arm across to Jordan’s plate and helped herself to several French fries. “You mind?”
“Guess not.” Jordan stared while Sharon shoved them all in at once. “So you have no idea how the money might have disappeared?” Jordan took another bite of her sandwich. She better get busy, or Sharon would eat it too.
“Not really. How would I?” Sharon wiped her hands on a napkin.
Jordan ate her fries before Sharon went for them again. “Then why did you talk to the press about the missing funds?”
“Why not? I called ’em up and asked if they were interested. They offered me money. The story would have gotten out pretty soon anyway. Why shouldn’t I make a few bucks if I can?”
“You know the foundation’s financial affairs are a confidential matter. You could lose your job over this. You took a big risk going public.”
“Risk, eh?” Sharon drained her brew, wiped the foam off her lips and leaned in. “Just between you and me, pilgrim, that’s how I roll. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work. Thanks for the lunch.”
Sharon hauled herself up and ambled off, leaving Jordan staring after her.
Maybe she does look a little like John Wayne, “pilgrim.”
Jordan called for the check, wondering if Sharon’s desire to do good deeds went so far as collaborating in an embezzlement scheme with her coworkers.
Maybe, maybe not, but after the interview, Jordan knew two things for sure. The woman had nerve and a really hearty appetite.
CHAPTER 18
The Gatekeepers’ offices were located in North Phoenix, in the high-tech and industrial corridor near Deer Valley Municipal Airport.
Stealing the Moon & Stars Page 9