“You have a point about that,” Dean said grudgingly.
“There’s another thing,” Shelley pursued determinedly. “If there’s something really big in those books, it could account for a lot of the trouble that Ackerly’s found itself in during the past eighteen months.”
“You think kickbacks or payoffs could add up to enough to actually push the company toward bankruptcy?” Dean looked startled.
She nodded. “It’s happened before. There are cases where that kind of thing has cost a company literally millions! But it could be another kind of scam altogether. It could be a deliberate effort to bleed off as much money as possible for as long as possible until the company goes into bankruptcy.”
“Embezzlement?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, Dean, but I want those books, and I want them without any warning to anyone. Will you give me permission to do it?”
“Sure, you’re the accountant, but haven’t you already been through the books enough to have noticed if something were wrong?” he asked quizzically.
Shelley shook her head. “It’s not that simple. I’ve been approaching the company records from an entirely different angle. Looking for ways to cut back, consolidate, tighten up. I haven’t been looking for criminal activity. That takes a full-scale investigative audit. I’ll be going into the computerized records, too.”
Dean whistled soundlessly and took another sip of his drink. “I get the feeling tomorrow is going to be a big day in the Ackerly accounting department!”
“I’ll bring a team in at seven-thirty in the morning. That’s a half an hour before your staff arrives. We’ll be on the scene and have the records we need before anyone realizes what’s happening.”
“Sounds like a military operation!”
“It’ll look a little like one, too!” Shelley smiled wryly. “But if we find evidence of a scam, it would sure explain a lot of Ackerly’s problems.”
“You mean I wouldn’t have to wonder how my father suddenly became such a poor executive? I have thought about that from time to time. I told myself that it happens to the best of managers and that he was getting old, but I have wondered how the slide really got started.” He broke off and gave her a hard glance. “But you’re sure it’s got nothing to do with the Cassidy deal?”
“I can’t be absolutely sure of anything, Dean. I only know that the bribe just didn’t strike me as being his style.” She tried to make it sound very positive, very certain. It was important to convince Dean that the audit was necessary and that Joel might be innocent of any wrongdoing. She couldn’t abide the thought that Joel might have been behind that bribe and that he might be angling to let Ackerly slip into bankruptcy.
“You could be right,” Dean said slowly, and then nodded firmly. “Okay. I’ll be at the office at seven-thirty tomorrow morning, and I’ll let you into the accounting department. Is your team ready to go?”
“Yes, I lined it up late this afternoon. I was hoping you’d agree that the audit was necessary.”
“If you can’t trust your accountant, who can you trust?” he murmured. He reached for the margarita pitcher and poured another glass for her. “Come on, Shelley, show me on paper what you’ll actually be doing tomorrow.”
Shelley glanced at her watch. “Maybe I’d better see if there are any carrot sticks left at the buffet table,” she said with an air of resignation. “It’s getting late, and this will take awhile.”
Two hours, one margarita and several carrot sticks later, Shelley bade good night to her client, who was still shaking his head trying to imagine who in his organization was out to destroy the firm, and climbed into her car for the drive back home. She had what she wanted from Dean, a shot at proving Joel’s innocence and a chance to discover if there was more to Ackerly’s financial woes than initially met the eye. Shelley was satisfied with the night’s work.
Her mind was spinning with plans as she pulled into the drive and parked her car, spinning so fast, in fact, that she didn’t see the white Maserati at the curb until she was heading up the walk toward her front door. When she bent over to search for the right key beneath the glow of the light, she saw it out of the corner of her eye.
Joel was waiting for her! The realization brought a small chill of uncertainty. She had wanted to wait until the audit had started before she confronted him again;
Wanted to wait until she had some indication that her trust was not misplaced. But he was here, waiting for her. Shelley bit her lip and thought fleetingly of simply getting back into her car and disappearing until the following evening. Everything would be so much simpler if she just had a little time to be sure.
Well, she would just have to play the game a while longer, Shelley instructed herself resolutely as she inserted the key in the lock. When this was all over, she would be able to face Joel and tell him that she really did trust him. For tonight, however, she would be as she was last night—wary but sure that she could at least trust him until morning.
The door opened easily, and she realized it hadn’t been locked. Where was the man she knew was waiting? Shelley blinked in the darkness of the hallway and groped for the light switch. She had not seen him in the car, so he must be somewhere in the house. Why were all the lights turned off? A wave of unease swept through her as she stepped into the living room.
“Hello, Shelley. It’s about time you got home.”
There was barely any satin at all left in the soft voice that greeted her as she came to a halt at the entrance to the living room. His tone betrayed fiercely suppressed anger.
“Hello, Joel.”
She could make him out now in the faint glow of moonlight coming through the patio window. He was seated in the dark-leather recliner to her right, and as she watched, fascinated, he lifted his hand to take a sip from the glass he was holding. She could not see the blueness of his eyes in the darkness, but the steel seemed very apparent The sense of unease she had experienced earlier grew by several quantum leaps.
“You’re late,” he observed simply.
“I didn’t know you would be waiting for me,” she tried to say calmly, taking a step forward to drop her shoulder bag on a convenient table. As soon as she set the purse down, she regretted it. Her hands suddenly seemed very empty and awkward. What in the world was the matter with her?
“Didn’t you?” There was cool mockery in his voice, but it didn’t hide the simmering anger. “Didn’t you guess I might be waiting, Shelley?”
And now Shelley knew why she felt not only uneasy but downright frightened. The room was permeated with a sense of controlled fury. How much longer would it remain under control?
“No,” she tried to say firmly, moving forward to switch on another light in the hope that the illumination would. remove some of her nervousness. Her palms, she realized as she flipped the switch, were damp. How strange. “I didn’t know you would be waiting. I was working late.”
“Not at Mason Wells, you weren’t I called there shortly before five-thirty and was told you’d left for the day.”
Shelley swallowed and wished she hadn’t had the second margarita. Something told her that in this mood Joel needed very careful handling. With a determinedly relaxed air, she unbuttoned the jacket of the red suit she was wearing and slipped it off. Then she kicked off the red and white pumps and headed for the kitchen in an imitation of her normal after-work behavior.
“Have you eaten?” she asked, opening the refrigerator door.
“I’m not hungry,” he said quietly from directly behind her.
She whirled, slamming the refrigerator shut as she realized he’d followed her silently into the kitchen. In the bright glow of the overhead fixture there was no problem at all in making out the color of his eyes. They were the shade of an arctic sea, cold and lethal. The coiled tension in his body promised the menace she had always guessed lurked beneath the surface of the man. Why was he confronting her with it tonight?
“I take it you’re a little upset over something?�
�� she hazarded dryly, striving to maintain a casual appearance as she desperately tried to think of something constructive to do. A half-empty bottle of Pinot Noir stood on the counter, and she reached for it and a glass as if for a life tine. She didn’t particularly want another drink, but she very badly wanted to keep her hands busy so that the trembling in her fingers wouldn’t be so noticeable.
“Where were you this evening, Shelley?” he asked flatly, watching her the way she imagined a predator watched a potential victim.
“I told you. I was working.”
“Where?”
“What is this? An inquisition? Joel, I have a career that sometimes demands extra time and extra work!”
“It’s nearly eight o’clock, and you haven’t been working late at the office,” he rasped. “Where have you been working, Shelley?”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” she exploded in a combination of anger and resentment. All she’d wanted was a little time, and here Joel was pushing her! “You’re not my husband, Joel. What right do you have to question my every move? You never made any arrangements this evening for us that I was aware of. It’s not as if I’m late for a date or stood you up for someone else!” She gulped the wine in her hand and immediately wished she hadn’t. She put the glass down on the tiled counter and leaned back against the cool edge, facing him defiantly.
“Were you with Ackerly?” he demanded harshly.
Her eyes widened at the accuracy of his guess. “As a matter of fact, I was. We were working on his company’s problem.”
“Where were you working on this ‘problem’?” he persisted relentlessly.
“Joel…!”
“Where?“ He didn’t raise his voice, but the command In it came through very clearly. Shelley knew with sudden intuition that she wasn’t going to escape from the kitchen until he had his answer. She began to feel cornered.
“At a bar downtown,” she shot back recklessly, bracing herself with a hand planted on either side of her against the counter. “A singles bar.”
“Don’t look at me that way, Shelley,” he warned very softly.
“What way?”
“As if you’re defying me to make something of that last statement. Don’t challenge me over an issue like this, honey,” he advised coolly. “You’ll lose. I guarantee it. Now tell me why you met Ackerly in a bar after work and stayed with him for over two hours.”
The sense of recklessness, of being pushed when she didn’t want to be pushed and of downright resentment grew. Shelley wasn’t used to being questioned about her actions, especially by a man. Her hazel eyes narrowed, and flecks of gold swirled in the green and blue depths.
“I’ve told you that I was working. If you don’t like the explanation, I suggest you make up one of your own that you like better.”
“You’re going to tell me you’ve spent the past two hours in a bar with a man and that it was strictly business?” he bit out
“Yes!”
He stared at her for a long moment, and then he seemed to draw a deep breath. “All right.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen.
It was Shelley’s turn to stare after his retreating figure. “All right!” she repeated dazedly. “Joel, what the hell do you mean, all right?“ She pushed herself away from the counter and started after him. He was sinking back into the recliner, stretching his feet out as if he intended to stay a while. She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips and glared down at him. One red brow arched questioningly as he looked back at her.
“I said all right because I meant all right. I don’t like it, I think you ought to start getting in the habit of working regular hours and not conducting business in bars, but tonight it’s all right.”
“You mean you’ve decided to believe me?” she asked, taken aback. She had been psyching herself up for a major battle, and he suddenly wasn’t going to fight.
“I believe you.” He closed his eyes for a few seconds, and when he opened them again, his gaze was very deep and steady. “But I’d like your word that you will not do much business in that fashion in the future. Why did you have to meet him in a bar after work, Shelley? Why couldn’t you have gone to his office during normal hours?”
Shelley sank into the chair across from him, the tension within her fading somewhat as she acknowledged that there wasn’t going to be a knock-down, drag-out war over the issue. Joel believed her. He didn’t like it, but he believed her.
“I didn’t want anyone at Ackerly Manufacturing except Dean to know what I was planning to do tomorrow,” she found herself saying quietly. She looked away from him, out into the darkened patio beyond the sliding-glass door. “I was afraid that if I went to his office or he came to mine, someone would notice the unscheduled meeting and start putting two and two together.”
“Why should someone have been more suspicious of this meeting than any other you’ve had with Ackerly?” Joel asked quietly, his eyes on her profile.
“I just didn’t want to take the chance of someone guessing that I… Ever since…”
“Ever since what?” he prompted as she floundered.
“Joel, I don’t want to talk about this,” she whispered with unexpected pleading in her voice as she turned her head sharply to meet his gaze. “It really is business, Ackerly business, and I would rather not discuss it.”
“Ackerly business is also my business these days, or have you forgotten our agreement? I was to be kept informed at every step along the way, remember?” he retorted coolly.
“I know, but this is—this is different, Joel!”
“Does it affect Ackerly operations? Does it have any bearing on the future of the company? Any impact on the loan I made to the firm?”
The sense of feeling cornered began to return. Shelley looked at him with a desperate kind of helplessness. “Yes! No! Perhaps. Joel, I don’t know yet. I need some time!”
“Time to do what?”
“Damn it! Don’t push me! I’ve told you this is business!”
“My business,” he emphasized, shoving down the foot rest of the recliner and sitting forward to pin her with a hard expression. “What’s going on, Shelley? What are you up to?”
“I thought you said you trusted me,” she hedged unhappily.
“I do. That does not mean I don’t want to know what’s going on!” he shot back implacably.
“I’ll tell you when it’s all over. If everything works out, I’ll give you a full report,” she promised hopefully.
“You’ll tell me now, sweetheart,” he declared forcibly.
“I can’t!”
“Why not?” he countered ruthlessly.
“Because it concerns you!” she blazed in a burst of frustrated anger.
“Me?” he repeated, looking thunderstruck. “Shelley, what the hell is going on?”
“Joel, please, just give me a little time,” she began earnestly, eyes wide with the appeal she was making.
“Time for what, damn it?” He wasn’t going to give up now, and Shelley knew it
“Time to prove your innocence!” she gritted fiercely, surging to her feet and pacing across the carpet in her stockinged feet. She got as far as the puzzle table before she turned at bay and confronted him. He was on his feet, standing beside the chair with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. His legs were slightly apart as if he were bracing himself for a fight and the stern glare with which he searched her face was enough to make the air conditioning superfluous.
“My innocence,” he repeated almost neutrally. Shelley didn’t trust the tone at all.
“That’s all I can say at the moment Joel.”
“The hell it is.”
“I promise that I’ll explain everything as soon as—”
“You’ll explain it now, Shelley.”
She shivered. He meant it, and she knew he meant it. Now what was she going to do? A little time. That was all she had wanted, just enough time to make certain. Her eyes closed briefly in silent despair. “Couldn’t you trust me
just a bit longer, Joel?”
“Trusting you is not the problem,” he growled, starting forward slowly. “The problem now seems to be your trust in me. Or rather the lack of it,” he concluded emphatically.
Shelley backed away warily as he closed the distance between them. “By tomorrow night I should have a fairly good idea,” she began urgently.
“A fairly good idea of whether or not you can trust me? Is that what you’re about to say?” He was close; much too close. Shelley backed away another step.
“Joel, I’m doing this for you!”
“What, exactly, are you doing for me?” he asked quietly. He stopped at the puzzle table, and she halted her retreat
There wasn’t much point in trying to stall him any longer, Shelley told herself. He meant to have answers tonight, and he wouldn’t let go until he got them. She knew that with the same certainty that she knew the classic accounting equations.
“All right!” she spit out tightly. “I’ll tell you what I’m doing for you! I’m descending on Ackerly Manufacturing tomorrow morning with a team of trained auditors! I’m going to take those books apart until I can prove that someone besides you would have a reason to bribe me to get rid of Ackerly as a client. There! Are you satisfied?”
“Bribe you!” He looked genuinely blank. “Who tried to bribe you?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have to charge Ackerly’s account for a full-scale investigative audit, would I?” she snapped vengefully.
“But who offered it? How was it done? In person?” He rattled off the questions like a machine gun.
“Over the phone.” Shelley hugged her arms to herself and walked away from him to stand in front of the window gazing out into the night “A woman’s voice. She mentioned your name.”
Joel swore softly, something harsh and violent “This person implicated me as the source of the bribe?”
Green Fire Page 13
