I took the package into our company kitchen and boiled some water in the electric teapot. Holding the envelope over the spout like I’d seen in movies, I waited a few minutes. It worked. I was able to peel back the flap without a single tear. I pulled out a thick sheaf of papers, then stared at the name on the transmittal letter clipped to the papers. MULCT Enterprises, Attention: Julia Harris and what appeared to be Julia’s home address in Seattle. I took everything back to my desk where I could take my time going through the contents of the package.
Apparently someone goofed and made out the courier slip for delivery to Julia’s business address instead of her home address. As I thumbed through the pages, it was easy to see they were escrow papers, but not for some little shack in Paradise Hills, Washington. The description of the property was a home in Medina, the community that boasted Bill Gates as one of its residents. I jotted the address on my notepad, then let out an involuntary low whistle when I saw the price—over $4,000,000. There were signatures line for Julia on behalf of MULCT Enterprises. I wondered what the initials stood for, but couldn’t come up with anything. Unless she had a bundle stashed away, I couldn’t imagine how Julia could afford a house this expensive. Maybe MULCT was a limited partnership and she was the general partner.
I grabbed everything in the stack and headed for the copy room. Just in case this meant anything, I wanted a copy for myself. Otherwise I’d have nothing to back up what I saw. The last paper fluttered out of the machine when I thought I heard a noise out front. My heart did a two-step.
“Is anyone there?” No answer. Just nerves. I continued to straighten the papers and put them back in the envelope, took a glue stick from the sorting table and ran it across both sides. Then I pressed the flap to reseal it. I wasn’t cut out for this cloak and dagger stuff.
It was time to call Julia and play innocent. I dialed her cell number. Three rings. “Julia Harris here.”
“Hey, I thought I’d better call you. We were about to close up when a bike courier delivered an envelope to you from an escrow company. I thought it might have something to do with the house you’re renting in Paradise. What would you like me to do with it?”
There was a hesitation. “Something from an escrow company?” A sharp inhale, then, “Can’t trust anyone. They were supposed to send it to my house. You’re right. It’s something about the rental house. Thanks for letting me know. Just leave it on my desk and I’ll drive in tonight to get it. How are the statements coming?”
Now it was my turn to hesitate. One thing I knew for sure. Those papers had nothing to do with a house in Paradise Hills. I was happy I’d copied them. “Statements, yeah, well, I’m almost done. Figured I’d stay late and finish them tonight. There were really a lot of dates entered wrong, just like you said.” My wicked streak took over. “Amazing how computers can do things like that, isn’t it.” I was very careful not to say a word about the mysterious HRF designation.
“Well, why don’t you call it a day? You’ve been working hard, and if you’re almost done, I’d say you deserve a good night’s rest. I’ll see you in a few days and thanks for alerting me.”
Okay, so she didn’t want to run into me when she picked up the envelope. I wondered if she would stay in Seattle overnight, then drive back to Paradise in the morning. A round trip would take about seven hours.
As I drove home, something kept niggling at the back of my mind. Then, in a burst of clarity I remembered Matt and Julia saying the big party would be in a rented mansion in Medina. Could it be?
~17~
The next morning after dumping my handbag and briefcase on the floor by my desk, I noticed a bright orange post-it note tacked to my computer screen.
Thanks for alerting me to the delivery. I’m not sure how that stupid escrow office made a mistake, but I guess that’s what the world is coming to. Keep working on the party arrangements with Matt after you finish the commission statements. I’ll see you on Monday.
Julia
My nerves were stretched so tight they felt like a sling shot fully extended. Her attempt to manipulate the commission figures and force our team to wait three more months for what they earned was as transparent as a sheet of glass to an experienced figure cruncher like me. As I looked through her sheets again, it occurred to me that she most likely intended to pull something similar every time which would set up what’s called a float. That way she would stay one step ahead of what was actually due to the salespeople, never catching up. I hated to think my boss was dishonest, but everything pointed to some sort of scam.
Unless she had a hidden family fortune somewhere, I couldn’t see any way for her to buy a $4,000,000 home on her own. Hell, in today’s economy I doubted she could afford anything more than her cute little house on Capitol Hill. A few weeks before when she had been sidelined by a bad cold, I’d had to run over there to pick up some papers.
Things were heating up too fast. I hated being on the spot, but that’s where I was. Dead center in the middle of a mess. I couldn’t decide whether I should lay it all out in one quick shot to Cameron and Kate or give it to them little-by-little. Well, that decision would have to wait until later. I dreaded seeing how much Julia was cheating these hard-working ladies out of. By resorting to flim-flam, she was also cheating me. That didn’t stop her from expecting me to diffuse the explosion that was sure to follow receipt of the checks.
I went through her yellow-streaked sheets again, still puzzled by why some entries had the letters HRF next to them instead of a salesperson’s name. I played with what that might mean. House Rebate? House Refund? How Ridiculous? In the end I stopped trying to figure it out and started a computer spread sheet of my own. I called my new document Bumblebee because of all those yellow stripes, Just to be safe I even protected it with a password, then entered every questionable order.
Once they were isolated on one spread sheet, a crystal clear picture developed. Each of them came from a military base supply depot or logistics warehouse. Supply depots often ordered warehouse stock for future needs as opposed to orders for specific projects. That meant it was possible I wouldn’t have been aware of these orders in the same way I would for projects that required design work, proposals or preliminary quotes. What if this happened every quarter? I only had these sketchy figures for the current quarter. My mind raced and I wondered if I might be a little paranoid. Even if I tried to convince myself I could be reading too much into it, deep down I knew that wasn’t true. She looked as guilty as sin.
Matt poked his head in the door, holding up his wrist and pointing to his watch. I was so totally lost in thought, I guess I hadn’t heard him the first time. “Hey, Earth to Kimberly. Want to grab a bite? This is the third time I’ve asked. I didn’t want to interrupt you, but it’s a quarter to one already. You have to eat sometime.”
I glanced away from the screen hoping he hadn’t seen what I was doing. How stupid. Of course he couldn’t see. My screen faced in the opposite direction. I tuned back into what he was saying.
“—so maybe we can discuss the arrangements for the meeting and party over lunch. This is really important to Bruce and Julia. They’re expecting it to be fantastic. I’ll fill you in on what I’ve done already, and we’ll take it from there.”
It’s funny. When you’re tunnel-visioned into something it seems to wipe out everything else. For one thing, I realized that I was really hungry, and as if to validate it, my stomach gave a little rumble. After quickly shutting down the computer, I grabbed my handbag.
“Okay. Since you invited me, it’s your treat, right?”
“Ah, Kimberly, you’re a master negotiator. So be it. Lunch is on me.”
We settled into a booth at a nearby bistro where mouth-watering aromas wafted from an exhibition kitchen nearby. A server placed an incredible looking sandwich plate on the table across from us, and I wanted one just like it.
“Waiter? What’s that? It looks wonderful.”
He smiled. “Pesto Turkey on Ciabatta—one
of my favorites.”
“I’ll have one of those and an iced tea.”
Matt told the waiter to give him the same, but he had a glass of Merlot.
I decided to try to get more information about the mansion in Medina from him. “Matt, how in the world did you find that great house you rented for the party? I’ve never had to do anything like that. Is there an agency or something that handles those things?”
“Luck, my lovely, just plain dumb luck. I simply asked the caterer to locate a place because they can usually do that, and almost fell over when I saw what they came up with.”
Yeah, right! Something was definitely afoot. I remembered the name of the street from the conversation in Julia’s office and the wonderful house was on the same street that was on the escrow papers. Was it a coincidence? I didn’t think so. It was probably the same house. Right about then I noticed a little twitch at the corner of Matt’s mouth. I was getting pretty good at spotting lies.
What to say? I needed more information. “I’d love to do a drive-by to see what it looks like in person. Could you jot down the address when we get back to the office? If I’m working on this with you, I should see where the house is.”
He didn’t hesitate a moment before saying, “Sure. Just remind me when we get back to the office.” I wondered if he knew about Julia’s involvement in the mansion. I was pretty sure he did, but he had no idea of how much I knew.
“Thanks. By the way, I finished the commission statements, and they’re way less than I figured they would be.”
“You know it’s not going to be pretty when the checks are passed out at the end of the meeting. In fact it’s a sure bet quite a few of our ladies will really be upset. Julia said the computer program entered the wrong dates for several deliveries. She attributed it to a glitch, but the glitch pushed a lot of their commission money into next quarter.”
I’d hoped he would say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he changed the subject.
We engaged in idle chit-chat for the rest of the lunch. I was afraid to push him too much because the last thing I needed was for Matt to clam up on me. I wanted to find out as much as I could from him and my good sense gene told me the only way to do that was to have patience. As soon as I had the address, I could compare it. Then, if the address on those escrow papers and the one for the party were the same, I planned to check the place out before going home. I really had to know as much as possible before I told Kate and Cameron what I’d discovered.
What if the wayward commissions were only the beginning? I’d heard about government embezzling and screw-ups for years, but never suspected that I would be on the brink of plunging headlong into some sort of cover-up scheme myself.
Later in the afternoon, after I’d gotten the address from Matt, my suspicions were confirmed. It was the same as the address on the escrow papers. I tried to rationalize one last time. Maybe I’d just been reading too many books and seeing too many TV shows—ones that centered on ripoff schemes. Hadn’t I just read in USA Today about some woman on the East Coast who held a high government job and had been caught charging thousands of dollars of fancy lingerie and a luxury cruise on her government charge card? I could think of better places for my taxes to be spent.
I didn’t want to be in the middle of anything like this, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t a case of letting my imagination run away with me. Like it or not, I’d uncovered something. Before leaving the office for the day I made sure to check the address in Medina on MapQuest.
~18~
I stopped at a fast food joint for a bite to eat before driving past the house in question. It was anything but a healthy choice—a Southwestern chicken-something, topped with a glob of processed cheese and a limp green Ortega chili pepper. The bun, definitely over-nuked, had taken on a cardboard-like texture but I choked it down anyway. Lost in thought, I drizzled three packs of ketchup over what turned out to be pretty good fries, sipped my diet drink and pondered my options.
The price for renting the wonderful mansion Matt had supposedly lucked into for the party was many thousands of dollars, and apparently my oh-so-innocent boss would be the direct beneficiary of this windfall. I wondered how much Matt’s cut was. He said his inheritance funded his lifestyle, but now I had to wonder if Julia was the one allowing him to indulge his taste for high living. This whole thing was starting to smell worse than a week old bag of garbage in a heat wave.
I swished the last French fry in a pool of ketchup and popped it into my mouth, then gathered up the debris intending to shove it into the overflowing waste receptacle. Three teens in black Goth wannabe outfits, sporting enough metal to open a hardware store, blocked my way. I thought about asking them to move aside, but they all stood there fixing me with challenging glares, as they waited for me to make a move. I made a move, alright. I plunked the tray back on one of the tables and left. I wasn’t about to have a fight to dump my garbage.
All the way to Medina I told myself that above all I had to appear like I was clueless about what was happening right under my nose. Maybe I’d already shared too much of my concern with Matt, but no more. He couldn’t be trusted. Thoughts swirled through my mind in a small tornado, vacuuming up every one of my doubts along the way.
The comfortable six figure income I’d earned when I was at STC wouldn’t even make a dent in what it cost to keep some of the sumptuous homes along Barrington Road looking like covers of Architectural Digest.
I parked the Mercedes at the curb beside the home now owned by MULCT Enterprises, got out and peered through the ornate iron gates. My nerves were on high alert. Everything almost seemed too quiet. A long, cobbled driveway led to a Tudor-style home, its used brick façade highlighted by leaded glass windows. All of the windows in the house were dark, although the driveway was lighted and spotlights illuminated lush greenery, flowers and mature trees.
So this was what the mysterious $4,000,000 property looked like. I could force myself to live like that. This magnificent place was probably considered below average in a neighborhood where values soared into tens of millions. Some of the homes I’d driven past were as large as hotels.
Deeply engrossed in studying the house, I think I jumped three feet when I felt a light tap on my shoulder accompanied by a sandpaper voice. Well, maybe three feet is exaggerating a bit, but it sure startled me. A private patrol cop wearing a too-tight uniform and a florid face above a set of sagging jowls said, “Good evening Ma’am. Can I help you find an address?”
I guessed it was a good thing I was driving a Mercedes. From the look on his face, if I’d been in an older economy car he probably wouldn’t have been so polite.
I thought fast, then said, “Actually it looks like I might not have the right house. I was supposed to meet some business friends. They suggested we meet here and I was pretty sure this was the address they gave me, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
My heart hammered so hard I had to catch my breath. I made a big show of rummaging in my purse to make it look like I hoped to find the paper with the information, then shrugged as if in defeat. I kept my eyes downcast, because if I’d looked at him I probably would have completely blown it.
“Nope. Not in here anywhere. Silly me, I must have left the address and their phone number on my desk. I was so sure I had it right, but maybe I’ll just drive around and see if I spot their car.”
I’m not sure how he did it, but the rent-a-cop managed to cock one bushy salt and pepper eyebrow. “That’s not a good idea, Ma’am—not in this neighborhood. Maybe you should go back, get the number and call them instead.” He took off his cap and ran his fingers through the few strands of thin gray hair it concealed, all the while fixing me with a commanding look. He swept the expanse of the property with his arm, voice stern. “Like you said, doesn’t look like anyone’s home here. Why don’t you just follow me out to the main road?” He made it clear this wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order.
He returned to his patrol car and I meekly
followed, wondering if he thought I was a high stakes cat burglar or something. Maybe he figured I was casing the empty homes in the neighborhood. So many movies have that theme, and those burglars on the big screen always manage to blend in with the people they were about to rob. I was wearing Armani and driving a Mercedes. Kimberly Martin—cat burglar? Not in your wildest dreams.
Eight o’clock. A quick calculation told me I’d be home by eight-thirty. Plenty early to place the conference call to Kate and Cameron before doing anything else, except of course kicking off my shoes and shedding my suit and silk blouse for a comfortable pair of sweats.
By nine o’clock, I’d made a bullet list of the things I wanted to discuss with my cohorts and settled down in my new easy chair to dial Kate’s number.
Her normally sexy voice said, “Kate speaking.”
I chuckled and came back with, “Kimberly barely speaking. Are you in a comfortable place? If not, I suggest you find one while I call Cameron and conference the call.”
She was immediately serious. “What’s going on? You sound awful.”
“Wait till I get Cameron on the line. That way I won’t have to repeat it.” I pressed the hold button and dialed Cameron’s number. She got it on the fourth ring. Good thing. The voice mail would have picked up on the next one.
“Hi Kimberly.” Obviously she’d checked her caller ID before answering. “What’s up? You usually don’t call this late.”
“I’ve got Kate on the other line. Let me hit the conference button.” I heard both of their voices at the same time signaling that the connection was complete.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Well, there’s bad news and interesting news. I’ll get past the bad news first, but you have to agree not to tell anyone else, okay?”
Cameron said, “Anyone else, you mean like at the company, or my friends or what?”
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