Taking Stock

by C J West

  She fumed all the way up to twenty-two then stood around the corner from his office trying to calm down. It was premature to blow up and make a scene. Her promotion could come next week or next month. She went in relaxed, hiding her distaste for the wretch behind the desk.

  “Well Erica, you haven’t visited in a while. How are things downstairs?” The snide expression might have meant things with Gregg.

  “Everything’s fine.”

  “Good. The board was pleased with our effort.”

  “I’ve heard. Congratulations on your promotion.”

  “Thanks. It’s been in the works a long time. This last project pushed it over the hump.”

  “I guess that makes me the humpee.”

  Brad looked back to his monitor as if the conversation were over, a silent dismissal without a single word of thanks for eighteen months of sleepless nights. She stood motionless, waiting for a sign of humanity. It didn’t come. Seconds passed awkwardly, neither of them spoke. She wasn’t going to bow outside and let it drop.

  “What’s next for me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do we have anything big coming up?”

  “What you’re doing now is very important.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Supporting client services. That system of yours is going to need modifications. It’s been a good week, but you can’t expect it to be trouble free. Problems are going to come up. Who better to resolve them than you?”

  “Ganesh for one.”

  “I’m moving Ganesh to the attribution project.”

  “Who’s leading that?”

  “Andy’s got it. They kick-off the next phase in a couple days.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Andy’s the best man for the job, pardon my phrasing.”

  “I brought this thing in on a shoestring. We’ve had less than a dozen bugs since Monday. Andy’s been working for me the last year. How can you think he’d do a better job?”

  “I’ve been preparing a formal review of your project management. It’s not complete, but since you’re here, why don’t we discuss it now?” He was enjoying this. He was going to rip her performance when everyone else in the company was raving about what she’d done.

  “What are you trying to do? You kept the staff so small it was practically impossible to finish on time. Then you took the credit for our success. What do you have against me?”

  “It’s nothing personal. I’m your boss whether you like it or not and there are some performance issues we need to discuss.”

  “What issues?” Erica screamed. She could hear people moving closer outside the door but didn’t care. This was so wrong.

  “Relax, Erica. If this conversation is going to be constructive you have to be willing to listen. Feedback is useless unless you’re calm enough to process it.”

  “What planet are you from?”

  “Fine, if you want to do this another time, I understand.”

  “No, I don’t want to do this another time. If you have a problem with the way I handled this project, I’d like to hear it. Then I’ll tell you what I think of you cutting my team in half two weeks before go-live. You’re damn lucky I was here night after night bringing this thing in.”

  “I understand how you might feel that way, but you have to realize that we have other projects to deliver. Yours is not the only work that matters.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  “Erica, get control of yourself.”

  “I’m fine. It’s you who’s lost your mind.”

  Brad stood up behind his desk and pointed to the door. “Enough. Go back to your office and cool down. When you can act professionally you can start fielding questions from client services. If you don’t like that, put your resume on Monster and find someone else to torment.”

  Erica walked to her office replaying the conversation in her mind. Her promotion was never an issue. Brad was against her from the beginning. He’d sabotaged her project. He’d made it impossible, hoping the project would fall apart. That’s what he’d wanted all along: an excuse to fire her. When she pulled through, he had taken the credit. Now he was sticking her on support duty to try and make her quit. He even suggested it.

  Why was he going to all this trouble to get rid of her? The other guys on the team followed Brad’s orders blindly, but no one worked as hard as she did. No one came close. It wasn’t discrimination. If anyone wanted women around, it was Brad. He ogled her relentlessly no matter what she wore.

  She sat alone, angry and confused, wondering why she’d been singled out. It wasn’t something she did. Whatever it was, it was Brad’s problem. How it related to her, she had no idea.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Nearly a week had passed since Sarah’s meeting with Gregg and Erica and they hadn’t returned a single email. Her phone queries were met with excuses and requests for more time. Three trips to his office produced scant conversation. He was polite but brief and his romantic interests were aimed in Erica’s direction. She suspected that neither he nor Erica had researched Mr. Johnson’s problem, nor would they. Sarah was growing more infuriated by the day. She wasn’t sure which was worse: losing her chance with Gregg or watching the most important development of her career sit idle. Relying on the scam artist to dig up evidence of her own fraud was futile. It was time to find help elsewhere.

  Stan was useless.

  She couldn’t go to IT. A leak there and her credibility with Herman would be shot. Gruff as he was, and annoyed as he’d be about her detour from his plan, Herman was the only choice. She arranged a meeting and made her third visit to the mahogany trimmed twenty-third floor.

  Herman welcomed her warmly, but underneath the phony smile he discounted her input. She had no auditing experience and she hadn’t been at BFS long enough to know anything he didn’t. He’d change his mind once he heard what she had to say.

  “How are things downstairs with Stan?”

  She settled into one of the thick leather guest chairs. “Fine,” she said.

  Herman read through her noncommittal tone without missing a beat. “I’m surprised to hear you say that. I was expecting something more along the lines of – he’s a lazy no good bum. Why’d you hire him?”

  “Ok. Why did you hire him?”

  “Believe it or not, Stan fits the job, my vision of the job, pretty well. He studied criminal justice and even enrolled in the Boston Police Academy.”

  “Failed cops make good auditors?”

  “This one does. He wound up here because he has asthma. Flunked the physical. To him this is the backwater of law enforcement. He’s got the right mindset even if he’s a little short on motivation.”

  “A little short?”

  “Better that than too gung-ho. That’s something I’m far more worried about, particularly with you.”

  If her teeth weren’t clenched, Sarah’s jaw would have dropped open. Did he say he preferred Stan to her? She faced him dumbfounded. He couldn’t be serious.

  He softened his tone. “We deal with highly charged issues. Stan keeps his head and stays on plan. He might not be leading the charge at one hundred miles per hour, but don’t underestimate him. He can sit with someone five minutes and know if he’s got something or not.”

  “But he’ll never find anything if he doesn’t care about the work.”

  “Sarah, we’re not cowboys and we’re not policemen. We’re here to help the operating units protect themselves. If we get too excited looking for bad guys, we slow everything down and we scare the heck out of people in the process. We’re not out to hang offenders in the public square. Sometimes we decide to quietly part ways with an employee. That can be hard to swallow, but if that’s our decision, you’ll have to deal with it and keep your mouth shut. It’s difficult to set someone free knowing he’ll try to steal from another firm, but sometimes that’s what we’re asked to do.”

  “That’s insanity.”

&nb
sp; “It’s not ideal, that’s for sure. It doesn’t always happen that way, but when it does, you have to be able to let it go.”

  Herman stood up and took a step toward the door. “Don’t worry about Stan. He’s not a bad guy.”

  Sarah stayed rooted in her chair. “That’s not why I came.”

  Surprise registered on Herman’s face.

  “I think I’ve found something,” she said, minimizing her excited tone.

  “In the payroll records?”

  “No.”

  He hid his annoyance with a question about her progress on payroll. Completing the plan meant more to him than anything. As he said, he wasn’t expecting to find criminals. He was working to earn his bonus. Sarah lied and told him she’d validated fifty employees. He relaxed.

  “Exactly how did you come across this find of yours?”

  “I was investigating that letter I showed you.”

  “Did you go back to January one?”

  “Not yet. I was planning to but–”

  “This is not the way we operate.”

  “I know. But I need to tell you what I’ve found.”

  “I don’t need the Lone Ranger on my team. Remember our little conversation about Stan? Stan doesn’t pull shit like this. He may be slow, but he’s always moving toward the goal line.”

  “I know. I know, but I need your help.” Sarah waited until Herman threw open his hands. “There’s a real issue in that letter. The company paid off the client, but my research keeps running into roadblocks.”

  Herman sat back down and crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”

  She explained the timing of the order and how the customer lost over three thousand dollars. She told him how much Gregg had helped and how they’d run aground when they asked for technical help from Brad and Erica.

  “You think there’s a reason no one in IT will help you?”

  “It looks bad. There’s a discrepancy between the customer’s phone bill and our records. It looks like the data’s been doctored.” Herman started fidgeting in his seat. “What if this isn’t the only transaction? Someone could move the difference to another account and then get the money out. Where better to do that than from IT?”

  “So we can’t explain what happened and there’s money to be gained.” Herman rubbed his chin. “What have you done to investigate?”

  “Gregg and I talked to,” Sarah fished in her notes, “Brendan Purcell. He took the call. He’s got an excellent record and,” she paused for the right words, “he’s a good kid. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s not our man.”

  “Probably doesn’t have the connections to pull this off. Not unless he’s working with someone upstairs. Who else have you talked to?”

  “Erica Fletcher. She’s the go-to person for systems problems.”

  “I know Erica. Pretty popular around here. What did she say?”

  “Not much. She said she’d look into it, but I haven’t heard anything in over a week.”

  “So you want me to light a fire under her?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m stuck and I’ve got no way around.”

  “You did the right thing. Systems people make me nervous. They can clean up after themselves in ways other people can’t. I’m not ready to accuse anyone, but do you think she’s hiding something or is she just busy?”

  “I’m not sure. Gregg trusts her one hundred percent.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “I don’t know. She seems friendly enough and supposedly she helps everyone down in client services, but I’m not getting anywhere.”

  “Back to my question. Is she busy or is she avoiding you?”

  Sarah wanted to say she was stonewalling, but didn’t want to speculate.

  Herman went to personnel for Erica’s file and left Sarah waiting. She wondered what she’d set in motion. Erica had the relationships, the access and the brains to do this, but was she the criminal type? Gregg trusted her completely, but he was in love. Was his judgment colored or was hers?

  Herman returned and plopped the file on the low table between them.

  “I got an update from HR. She’s worked for four different bosses. If anyone knows this business from every angle, it’s her. She received stellar reviews in her first three jobs, but for some reason things have changed with Brad Foster.” Herman paused, thinking. “She’s got access to customer data, she’s smart and she knows just about everyone in the firm.”

  “So I’m not crazy?” Sarah asked. A fraud would explain the friction between her and Brad. Rules would need to be bent to cover up what she was doing. It also explained her reluctance to help.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  Herman walked over to his phone and punched a few numbers. The ring played over the speaker and then a man’s voice came on the line.

  “Hey, Brad. I’ve got Sarah Burke on the line with me.”

  “Hello, Sarah.”

  Sarah’s weak greeting was surely inaudible on the other end. Herman picked up the conversation. “Brad, we have a situation here involving one of your employees. I’d like you to spend some time with Sarah. Let her show you what she’s got. Can you do that?”

  “Something serious?”

  “Can’t tell. What’s your schedule like?”

  “This week’s bad. I’m away most of next week. I could do early next Friday. Breakfast away from the office might work. If this is urgent, we could do something after hours.”

  Herman didn’t give Sarah a chance to respond. “Let’s keep this first meeting out of the office. Breakfast next Friday will be fine. Sarah will handle the details.” Herman thanked him and hung up.

  “Is it safe to bring another person from systems in on this?”

  “Good thinking. It could be anyone up there, but I don’t think we need to worry about the CEO’s brother-in-law. Stealing from the company wouldn’t go over well at family dinners. Don’t treat him different than anyone else, but don’t go throwing accusations around. It could be bad for both our careers.”

  Sarah felt foolish for the suggestion and the lecture made it worse. She left his office energized to get her investigation back on track. She’d catch up on that payroll project while she waited for Brad Foster to get back from his trip.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The suitcase faced Brad from the bottom of the closet. Assembled after this insider trading opportunity plunged into a nightmare he couldn’t escape; the case held enough clothes and enough money to get him somewhere he could melt away. He could live out his days comfortably in France. The problem was extradition. The moment he disappeared, information about the theft would surface and his face would be on the front page of every newspaper in the country. He’d seen the file complete with photos, time tables and other details. The file had kept him in line until now, but things were getting so hot that no one could protect him. Running had proved disastrous and going to jail terrified him. He sat, torn between sneaking off to the airport and going back to work to run the program.

  His only other alternative was to call Marty and beg forgiveness. Marty would be furious. He’d call this a crime against the family. Unforgivable. Only the threat of negative press would keep him from prosecuting. Brad’s sister would never speak to him again. That he could tolerate, but not what would happen if the authorities got the file. Before asking Marty for help, he’d need to have his partner under control and the file in hand. After being captured in the tunnel, he knew getting the file away from the boss and his goons wouldn’t be easy.

  The single CD on the bedspread reminded him of where he should be. This disc held his greatest technical achievement. The program siphoned money from small BFS clients in dribs and drabs and it had run undetected for three years. It had never left his BFS office before, but with Erica so close and internal audit bearing down, he couldn’t imagine leaving the disc there no matter how good his hiding place was. He could never bring himself to stay late and run it again and that was going to be difficult
news to deliver. He was woefully short of his six million dollar goal.

  Frozen by fear with every alternative looking bleak, Brad cycled from the suitcase to the phone to the CD. The one constant was his ruthless partner. Disobedience wouldn’t be taken well even after years of servitude. Brad remembered the night Stu Tinsley stumbled into the computer room. He’d gotten too close, asked tough questions and Brad flinched. He barked at Stu to mind his business and forget what he saw. Brad let it go, but the boss didn’t settle for risks like Stu walking the halls.

  Two days later, Brad asked the kid to help retrieve some records. The two went down into a dusty storage area in the bowels of an old warehouse. Stu recognized Brad’s partner when he emerged from the shadows, but he never realized the trouble he was in. He answered flippantly. He pried and pried for information about what Brad was doing that night, never realizing his only hope was to run for his life and never look back. Seeing the gun sobered him a little, but he never believed he was in any danger. The first bullet changed that. Burning through his midsection, it would have been fatal without treatment. The kid was stupid enough to get angry at his executioner; cursing him for what he’d done, never realizing the bullet was meant to get his attention.

  The first shot to the knee woke the kid up. It zipped through, missing the bone, and lodged in some boxes. The second met his knee cap, fragmented, and chewed up everything in there to gnarly rubble. Agony wracked his face. He begged. Swore he’d never tell. Promised he’d told no one. If he had they’d have met the same horrific fate. When the boss was satisfied he wasn’t a threat, he put one in the kid’s temple. They left him there. Dead for doing his job, wondering what his boss was up to, trying to lend a hand. He came down willingly and they left him there pooling blood on the concrete.

  They left the warehouse together, but the body was never found.