The Promise
Page 5
“We can’t look in the boxes unless dad’s with us,” Catherine said. “Does your dad know you’re here?”
Ashley shook her head. “No. He doesn’t live in Bozeman.”
“Where does he live?”
“In a city called San Francisco. It takes a long time to get there.”
“Oh.” Catherine climbed onto the first row of hay bales and held her finger to her lips. “You have to be quiet. Sometimes the cats sleep in my secret hideaway.”
Ashley followed her pint-sized tour guide over another row of hay bales. When Catherine stopped, she peered over her head. Tucked against the far wall was a small wooden door, almost hidden behind a mound of hay.
Catherine crouched low and slowly opened the door. She beckoned Ashley forward. “Tabitha is asleep. She’s an old cat.”
Ashley took off her sling and filled the two bowls with grits. “Should I leave both bowls in here?”
“No. Leave one on the landing,” Catherine whispered. “Sometimes Grouchy doesn’t like eating with the other cats.”
Ashley looked at the size of the door and doubted whether she could squeeze through. “Can you put this bowl inside the hideaway?”
“Sure,” Catherine said as she carefully took the bowl. “I won’t be long.”
While Catherine placed one bowl in the hideaway, Ashley left the other bowl about six feet away. A black cat with half a missing ear appeared from behind a mound of hay.
“Hi, fella. What’s your name?”
“His name is Bandit. Dad said he’s the best mouser he’s ever seen.”
“That’s high praise coming from your dad. He must have had lots of barn cats living here over the years.”
“Lots and lots,” Catherine said. “But Aunt Sally has got more. Her ranch is like the most amazing zoo in the world.”
Bandit’s teeth made a crunching noise as he ate the bowl of grits.
Catherine pointed to the highest hay bale. “There’s Sissy and Spinach. They’re twins, like Uncle Matthew and Uncle Sean. I’m not sure where Hoppy and Gonzo are, but they won’t be far away.”
“Catherine! Are you in here?”
“That’s my mom,” Catherine said as she moved closer to the ladder. “I’m up here. I found a friend.”
Ashley could only imagine what Amy was thinking. “It’s okay. It’s me, Ashley.”
“We’re feeding the cats,” Catherine said, “but I can’t see Hoppy and Gonzo.”
Amy’s head appeared over the edge of the loft. “They won’t be far away.” She smiled at Ashley and hauled herself onto the platform. “Nathan told me you arrived yesterday. I’m sorry we weren’t here to welcome you.”
The hug that Amy gave her made Ashley’s eyes fill with tears. It had been too long since she’d seen her friend. “I’m sorry I didn’t call as often as I should have.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”
Catherine looked at her mom. “Do you know Ashley?”
“We met just before I married your dad.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“It’s gone fast,” Amy said with a smile. “Hoppy’s found breakfast.” She pointed to the bowl beside them.
The cat that Matthew had warned her about was happily eating the grits.
Amy plucked pieces of hay out of Catherine’s hair. “We need to get you to school and Toby to day care.”
Catherine looked up at her mom. “But I’ve just met Ashley.”
“Uncle Matthew said we’re visiting you after dinner tonight. What if I make some muffins and bring them with us?” Ashley said.
The smile on Catherine’s face was instant. “That would be great.”
Ashley peered over the edge of the loft. “I guess we’d better climb down the ladder.”
“Let me go first,” Amy said. “If you follow me, it won’t be so bad.”
Ashley didn’t think anything would make her descent better, but she was willing to give Amy’s suggestion a try. She took a deep breath and watched her friend disappear over the edge of the loft.
“It will be okay,” Catherine said from beside her. “I go up and down the ladder all the time and I’ve only fallen once.”
Ashley swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. With more determination than courage, she placed her right foot on the top rung of the ladder and started climbing down.
Next time, she would leave the bowls of cat grits on the barn floor.
CHAPTER FOUR
Matthew walked toward the two-story cottage he called home. Four generations of the Gray family had lived on the ranch, raising their family and nurturing the land as best they could. And now they were hiding a reporter whose story could launch her career or send her to prison. His grandfather would have laughed at the irony of it all. For most of his life, Matthew had been the one getting into all kinds of scrapes, pushing the limits of everyone’s patience. But what Ashley was doing was beyond anything he’d ever done.
He took off his boots and headed toward the kitchen. The cottage was quiet. Too quiet.
Ashley was sitting at the dining table wearing her headphones. Sheets of paper were spread out in front of her. She reached for a pen, wrote something down, then nodded to whatever she was listening to.
Matthew stood in the doorway watching her, remembering the two years they’d spent together. He’d been drawn to her quiet strength, the way she treated everyone. She was the sort of person who would walk into a room and talk to someone who was on their own. She’d pull them into a conversation and make sure they were included in what was happening.
He’d liked that about her, liked it a lot.
She looked up and jumped. Her headphones landed with a thud on the table. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt whatever you’re doing.”
Ashley turned off her music. “I’m cross-referencing everyone who’s been at Jasmine Alfredo’s charity events with The Reaching High board members and their partners.”
“Have you found anything interesting?”
“Only that Congressman Welsh’s name comes up a lot.” She turned her laptop around so that he could see the screen. “These are the photos Harry took at the last four charity events that Jasmine organized. Congressman Welsh isn’t far from Jasmine in all of them.”
Matthew sat beside Ashley and clicked through the images. “Maybe they’re dating?”
“His wife might have something to say about that.”
He looked closely at one of the images. “He doesn’t act like a married man.”
Ashley studied the same photo. “I thought so, too. What’s even more interesting is that his wife wasn’t at any of these events. When he was running for mayor, his wife was always beside him.” She showed him the last image, then closed the file. “Bonnie has a meeting this afternoon with the treasurer of The Reaching High Foundation. She’s going to ask if she can look at their income and expenditure statement for the last financial year.”
“They won’t let her near it if they’re worried about what she could do with the information.”
“She’s already spoken to two board members. They think she’s a college student doing her thesis on successful marketing strategies for nonprofit organizations.”
“And they believed her?”
“Bonnie has bright red hair and dimples. If anyone can pretend to be genuinely interested in their charity, it’s her.”
“Is she worried that they’ll discover the truth?”
“She’s more worried about what the Foundation is doing.”
Matthew pointed to another sheet of paper. “What’s on your chart?”
“The Department of Health and Human Services gave The Reaching High Foundation $240,000 to help fund a youth center in Downtown Brooklyn. I’ve gone through the accountability report the Foundation returned at the end of the financial year.” Ashley picked up a sheet of paper and handed it to him. “The Foundation itemized each budget line,
then listed the companies that provided the goods or services. So far, I’ve called five of the businesses to confirm whether the items they supplied were delivered.”
“And what did they say?”
“Three of the businesses aren’t answering their phones. They’re all based in New York City, so Harry is going to visit them.”
Matthew pulled the chart closer and read the notes she’d made in the last column. “The other two companies you called didn’t supply materials to The Reaching High Foundation?”
“It’s worse than that. They’d never heard of them. According to the Department of Health and Human Services, The Reaching High Foundation used both companies on other projects.”
“When are you taking this information to the police?”
“When I know where the money has gone. The Reaching High Foundation doesn’t have a lot of money in their bank account, and they haven’t used all the government funding for a youth center. The money must be somewhere.”
“Who authorizes withdrawals from the Foundation’s bank account?”
“The treasurer, but Jasmine Alfredo has signing rights as well.”
“You need to see their bank statements.”
Ashley nodded. “I’ve been trying, but I can’t access them.”
“The police would be able to issue search warrants.”
“I know, but I want to publish the story first. Once the police are involved, I won’t be able to do anything.”
He stared at the papers scattered across the table. “You need more help.”
The front door banged open. “Hello! Is anyone home?”
Matthew dropped his head to his chest. His sister was the last person he wanted to see.
Ashley jumped to her feet and threw the remaining sheets of paper into folders. “Is that Sally?”
“It is.” He moved the laptop out of Ashley’s way and slipped it into its case. “We’re in here, Sally.”
His sister strode into the kitchen. She frowned when she saw Ashley. “It’s true. You are here.”
Ashley closed the last folder. “Hi, Sally.”
Matthew’s sister tilted her head to the side. “I like your hair long. It suits you.”
“Thanks. Congratulations on getting married.”
No one would have thought the two women used to be friends. Matthew glanced at his sister, wondering why she’d come here if she knew Ashley was staying with him.
“I brought lunch with me,” Sally said. “I didn’t know if Ashley would be on her own or if she’d have company.”
Ashley’s shoulders relaxed. “The coffeepot’s hot. Would you like me to make you a cup?”
“That would be great. I’ll get the cooler out of my truck.”
Matthew followed his sister out of the house. “What are you doing here?”
“Making sure you’re okay.” She opened the passenger door and handed him the cooler. “Are you?”
“Of course I am. Ashley’s only staying for a week or two.”
“And then she’s going back to New York?”
He nodded. “Don’t lecture me about wearing my heart on my sleeve. Sean’s already done that.”
“Good, because someone needs to look after you.” She held onto his arm. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Okay, I’ll be careful. I didn’t think you’d want to see Ashley.”
Sally sighed. “I need to apologize. I was angry about how she treated you.”
“She wanted to be a journalist in a big city.”
“Well, she certainly got what she wanted. I wonder if her job is worth everything she left behind.”
Matthew shrugged. “She hasn’t been back in three years. It must have been worth it.”
Sally stepped onto the porch. “You’re being awfully adult about her being here.”
“Someone has to be,” he whispered. “Sean’s acting like a five-year-old.” He took the cooler through to the kitchen and unpacked the lunch.
While they’d been gone, Ashley had cleared the table and set it with plates and cutlery.
It was almost like old times. Almost.
***
After lunch, Ashley cleared away the last of the dishes. Matthew had already left to help one of the ranch hands.
“I’ll leave the rest of the pie in the refrigerator,” Sally said.
“Sean will be happy.”
Sally didn’t say anything, and Ashley couldn’t blame her. They hadn’t spoken to each other in three years. Losing her friend had been almost as hard as saying goodbye to Matthew.
Sally covered the pie with foil. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you before you left Bozeman.”
Ashley looked at the dishcloth in her hand. “I deserved everything you said.”
“No, you didn’t. I knew you were grieving for your mom, but I still lost my temper.”
“You were sticking up for Matthew.”
“It’s still no excuse for how I behaved. Looking back, I know why you left. This place is so small that Betty-Sue made the headlines when she dyed her hair blue.”
Ashley smiled. “You’re joking?”
“Only a little. She dyed her hair for a fundraising event.”
Ashley left the dishcloth on the counter. She needed Sally to understand why she’d left. “I loved Matthew, but I had to leave. I wanted to work for a big newspaper, to make a difference in the world. I couldn’t stay here knowing I hadn’t at least tried to make a name for myself.”
“And have you?”
“Have I what?”
“Made a name for yourself.”
Ashley thought about her job. “Not really. I’m a society reporter for a mid-size newspaper.”
“In New York.”
She grinned. “That part is pretty awesome. But with all the awesomeness comes high living costs, smog, and rush-hour traffic that you wouldn’t believe.”
“Does the reason you’re here have anything to do with your society pages?”
“Sort of. Matthew told your parents I came to Bozeman for a friend’s birthday party.”
“I don’t know if mom and dad will believe him. But in the meantime, I think I can do something for you.” Sally looked at the folders stacked on the counter. “It looks as though you need an office. You could use one of the spare bedrooms in the cottage. Nathan’s got a whiteboard in the main homestead that he doesn’t use. We could set that up beside a desk and you’d have your own workspace.”
“That sounds great.”
“Come on, then.” Sally pulled Ashley toward the kitchen door.
“Where are we going?”
“To find the whiteboard. By the time Matthew and Sean arrive home, we’ll have everything ready.”
“Are you sure they won’t mind me using one of their spare bedrooms?”
“Trust me. I know my brothers. Creating an office is the least of their worries.” Sally opened the front door and walked toward the main homestead.
“Why are you doing this?”
Sally stopped in the middle of the yard. “Because I feel guilty about the way I treated you and because I want to help. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Ashley murmured.
“Do you want to give friendship another try?”
“I’d like that. But I’ll only be here for a few days.”
“I know. Just do me a favor and try not to break Matthew’s heart again.”
Ashley saw the worry on Sally’s face. “I wouldn’t have asked him for help unless it was important.”
Sally sighed. “I know.” She linked arms with Ashley. “Do you need any pens or paper?”
“I brought enough paper with me. If you have a spare whiteboard marker, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’m sure we can find something.”
Using one of the cottage’s spare bedrooms as an office was a wonderful idea. Ashley could lay everything out, connect faces and names on the whiteboard, and try to make sense of all the information she’d collected.
If it weren’t, she would fly back to New York and take her chances with whoever was following her. Without proof that the grant money had been stolen, her story would be going nowhere.
***
“You’re not going to believe this,” Bonnie said as soon as Ashley called her. “The treasurer of the Foundation has only been in that role for the last three months.”
Ashley could hear the excitement in her friend’s voice. “Is that good or bad?”
“It could be good when I tell you why the last person left. Apparently, there was a huge argument between Jasmine and the previous treasurer. The next day, the treasurer resigned. No one’s saying what the argument was about.”
Ashley frowned. “Did you find this out at your meeting?”
“No. I spoke to one of the Foundation’s personal assistants in the coffee shop afterward.”
“Did you see any of the Foundation’s financial records?”
“Not yet.” Bonnie sounded disappointed. “The treasurer said she’d send me a copy of their income projections and their marketing plan. I don’t think they’re going to help.”
“They might. I’ve still got a copy of the accountability report the Foundation filed. I’ll keep working through that. Harry’s going to call me after he’s met with the companies who supplied materials for the youth center project.”
“I asked the treasurer about the projects they fund. Her only involvement is to pay the bills and make sure the overall costs don’t exceed the budget. Program leaders are assigned to each project. They’re in charge of making sure the right people are involved in each project.”
“Who was the project leader for the youth center?”
“Congressman Welsh. He managed all the contractors.”
Ashley opened one of her folders. “Congressman Welsh was running for mayor about the same time as the youth center project was starting. He would have been busy.”
“Maybe he made an honest mistake. He might have overpaid a contractor and they never told him.”
“He didn’t pay the bills—that was the treasurer’s job.”