Fare Game

by Cade Haddock Strong

  Before he was even out of earshot, her mother leaned over and whispered, “We always get that fellow as a waiter. He’s obviously, you know…queer.”

  Riley was mortified. She knew exactly what her mother was implying. The guy was obviously gay. “He’s a very good waiter,” she said flatly.

  “Yes, yes, he is.”

  Riley stood. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

  She wandered back toward the kitchen in search of their waiter. She was certain he’d overheard her mother’s crass comment.

  “Is everything all right, Ms. Bauer?” he asked when she approached.

  “Yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to apologize for my mother’s comments. They were terribly insensitive.”

  The waiter patted her on the shoulder. “You’re sweet to come over, but that sort of thing comes with the territory, honey.” He gave her a weak smile. “You’ve gotta have thick skin if you want to work at this place.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  When Greg’s house came into view, Kay clutched the steering wheel of her Jeep. The massive Georgian was all lit up. Little white lights adorned every inch of its façade and a huge Christmas tree glowed from inside.

  She inched up the large circular drive to the front door and a valet in an ill-fitting tuxedo greeted them. Riley grasped her arm as they made their way toward the house, her high heels no match for the cobblestone driveway.

  They checked their coats at the door and went in search of the bar. Kay eyed the crowd as they made their way across the massive living room. The party had only started, but there had to be at least a hundred people, mostly employees of Logan and their spouses, milling around the house already. When they reached the bar, both she and Riley asked for a glass of Cabernet, which, knowing Greg, was probably some overpriced trophy wine. Kay fidgeted with the string of pearls around her neck while the bartender wrestled the cork off a fresh bottle.

  When they stepped away from the bar, Mark Peters, the assistant general counsel, waved them down and he and his wife spent the next twenty minutes droning on about their recent trip to Cabo and the house they were building in Marietta. Even with his wife standing by his side, Mark was as grabby as ever, and Kay wished they would disappear into thin air. She collapsed against Riley when they finally excused themselves to go terrorize another couple.

  While Riley went to the bar to get them each a sparkling water, Kay leaned against the fireplace mantel and took some calming breaths. She had to get her head in the game and keep her eye on the prize. They weren’t here for the expensive wine and holiday cheer. They had a job to do.

  Riley gave her an encouraging smile when she returned with their drinks. “It’s time,” she said.

  Kay threw back half her glass of water. “I know.”

  “It’s now or never.”

  Kay had been to Greg’s house twice before—once for a coworker’s retirement party and once when one of Greg’s kids graduated from high school. There were two bathrooms on the main floor, a powder room off the kitchen/family room, and a full bath on the other side of the house, directly across the hall from Greg’s study. The crowd in the living room had thinned a good bit as people had migrated to the mountains of food spread out in the dining room and family room. Kay took some comfort when she spotted Greg standing off to the side. He was deep in conversation with someone she’d never seen before—a hulk of a man with bright red hair. She set her water down on a nearby table and nodded toward Riley. “Okay, let’s go.”

  They slipped into the hallway that led back toward Greg’s study in the guise of searching for the bathroom. When they reached the study, Kay pulled the heavy wooden door open a crack and peered inside. “The coast is clear,” she whispered.

  Riley stood watch while she ducked inside. The room was two stories with a wraparound balcony on the second level. The walls were wood paneled, and an ornately decorated Christmas tree provided the only light in the room.

  Kay didn’t waste any time. She pulled a small flashlight from her pocket and got to work. She started with the desk, rifling through the contents of each drawer. Nothing. Next, she scanned the sparsely populated bookshelves—no surprise, a moron like Greg wouldn’t own many books. It took a while, but she finally saw what she was looking for: a red, spiral notebook was tucked behind a slew of framed family photos.

  Kay carefully extracted it and flipped through page after page of Greg’s neatly handwritten notes about Concordia’s activity for the last six months. She set the notebook on the desk and pulled out her phone, but before she had a chance to snap any pictures, the silence in the room was broken by commotion out in the hallway. She froze when she heard a glass break. That was Riley sending a warning shot. Kay snatched up the notebook, dove behind the Christmas tree and tried to cover the rest of her body with the heavy velvet, gold-edged drapes. She could see clearly through the branches of the tree and she hoped she wasn’t visible from the other side.

  The door to the study swung open and Greg and Riley’s boss, Gabe Suarez walked into the room. Greg walked over to the desk and clicked on the lamp, sending a soft glow over the room. Kay held her breath when Gabe looked toward the tree. “What’s with all the fucking Christmas trees, Greg?”

  “Don’t even get me started. My wife pays some highfalutin florist an arm and a leg to put them up every year, and I think they’re ugly as shit. I mean, fuck, how many gold bows does a tree need?” Greg gestured toward a small butler’s table in the corner of the room. “I need a drink. You want one?”

  Gabe nodded. “Make mine a double. Howard Rome is driving me to drink.”

  Greg took the lid off the decanter, filled two glasses with a rich brown liquid and handed one to Gabe. “He’s really been tightening the screws.”

  “Damn right he has.” Gabe took a slug of bourbon. “The financials he wants Logan to report this quarter are downright ludicrous. When I pushed back, he basically told me to fuck off.”

  “All this Concordia crap is giving me a freakin’ ulcer.” Greg held up his glass. “And this shit isn’t doing me any favors.”

  “We’re going to get caught with our pants down. It’s only a matter of time before—”

  A small red ball fell off the Christmas tree and slowly rolled across the wood floor, coming to a stop near Greg’s feet. “Fucking tree,” he said and kicked the ornament across the room. He strolled over to the bookshelf. Kay pinched her eyes shut, praying he didn’t go looking for the red notebook, the one she was currently clutching against her chest.

  Greg picked up a picture of his four kids posing in the stern of a large powerboat. “I wish I could just walk away,” he mumbled. “but I’ve got two in college and two in boarding school.”

  “Well,” Gabe said, “at least Howard Rome is making us rich. My bonus this year was twice as big as last year.”

  “True. He certainly is making all this crap worth our while.” Greg waved toward the door. “We should probably get back to the party. My wife will kill me if she realizes we’re hiding out in here.”

  As soon as they were gone, Kay extricated herself from behind the tree. She set the notebook back down on the desk and began to snap photos of each page. After five minutes, she wasn’t even halfway through. “Fuck it,” she mumbled. In a quick movement, she slipped the notebook under her flowy designer coat, tucked it in the waistband of her pants and bolted for the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  When she got to work Monday morning, Kay couldn’t help but chuckle when she spotted Greg in his fishbowl of an office. He was frantically tearing his desk apart, no doubt in search of a certain red notebook. You’re not even warm, Greg.

  The red notebook was safely tucked away in Kay’s desk at home. As soon as she and Riley had gotten home from Greg’s Christmas party, they’d worked well into the early morning hours, cataloging every note Greg had made about Concordia in the notebook. Every price change he referenced was logged into Kay’s master Excel sheet. Finally, her data was u
p to date.

  When Kay conveyed what she’d overheard in Greg’s study, Riley had taken it pretty hard. It confirmed Gabe was a stinking rat, just like Greg. Both men were mega players in the scandal at Logan. Riley admitted, deep down, she’d known Gabe was involved; it was just tough to accept it was true. The fact that Logan’s CEO, Howard Rome, was at the center of the scandal came as no surprise to either one of them. They’d had a hunch the rot started at the top, but now they knew for sure.

  Kay was in the process of shrugging off her coat when Greg appeared at her office door. His hair was disheveled and his shirt was stained with big wet pit marks. “Have you seen a red notebook?” he asked, using his hands to give her its general dimensions. “It’s one of the spiral ones. You’ve probably seen me carry it around.”

  “Good morning to you too, Greg,” Kay replied. “And no, I haven’t seen a red notebook. Maybe you left it at home.” Kay tried not to smile when she said the last sentence. It was just so damn fun to mess with him.

  “Goddamn it,” he muttered and stormed out of her office.

  “By the way,” she called after him, “your holiday party was great. Thanks for inviting us.”

  Kay spent the rest of the morning trying to catch up on email and reviewing various monthly pricing reports. At exactly noon, she got up, put on her coat, walked out to her car and drove home. Riley was already there when she arrived. The preliminary call with Fred Archie was scheduled for one o’clock and Riley had insisted they take it together.

  As much as she wanted to protect Riley, Kay had finally come around to the idea they needed to work as a team as they waded into the next chapter of the Logan saga. What had started as a sprawling price fixing scandal had morphed into something so much bigger and more complex, and together she and Riley made a formidable duo. There were no words to describe how important Riley had become to her, and for the millionth time, she wondered if she’d have survived the last few months without her.

  Kay shook her head and tried to focus on the here and now. The clock on her stove read 12:58. She began to pace. “I’m pretty sure I’ll lose it if he isn’t at least willing to meet with us.”

  Riley pulled her into a hug. “He’d be nuts not to take this case. The fraud is massive, and we’ve got more than enough evidence to back up our claims.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Riley stepped back and pulled out her phone. “You want me to do the honors?”

  Kay nodded, grateful to have a copilot who was not only brilliant, but also beautiful.

  The phone call with Fred Archie ended up being a total non-event. About fifteen minutes into the conversation, he agreed to meet with them in person later that week. He instructed them to back up all the evidence they’d collected and to guard it with their lives.

  After the call, Riley headed back to the office, and Kay went upstairs to her study. She backed up all the Logan related files to an external hard drive, the cloud, Dropbox, and for good measure, to a thumb drive that she kept in her fireproof safe. Satisfied the files would survive no matter what tragedy might strike, be it a house fire or a hacked cloud, she went back downstairs and called Ethan.

  “I’m not at all surprised he agreed to meet with you,” Ethan said after Kay updated him about their conversation with Fred. “I mean, the guy would be an idiot if he’d turned you down. No doubt, Fred saw dollar signs as soon as he heard what you and Riley had to say. A whistleblower case like yours can be very complex, but it can also be very lucrative for the attorneys involved.”

  “He might change his mind once he sees the evidence we produce.”

  “He might, but I doubt it. You need to stay positive, Kay.”

  “I know. I’m usually a glass half-full kind of gal, but this whole thing has me in knots. Riley and I are taking a huge risk. We’re skating on very thin ice.”

  “I can’t say I blame you,” Ethan replied. “You’re about to go to bat in the big leagues. The stakes just got a whole lot bigger. You have to promise me you’ll be careful. No more sneaking around people’s houses. You have to assume you’re being watched at all times because there’s a damn good chance you are.”

  “Trust me, we’re both on high alert.”

  “How’s Riley handling all of this?”

  “Better than me. She’s been a complete rock. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

  “Things have gotten pretty hot and heavy with you two, huh?”

  “Yeah, they have. We’ve gotten really close, really fast. I think all the crap at Logan has helped bring us together, but it’s more than that. We just work. I’ve never met anyone like her. I’m in deep Eth, real deep.”

  “I know it’s still early days for you two, but given how quickly things have progressed, are you planning on spending Christmas together?”

  “Ha,” Kay said. “I wish, but no. I suggested maybe spending Christmas Eve with our respective families and then doing Christmas dinner together, either with her family or mine…”

  “And?”

  “She’s not out to her family.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird to feel so close to her and to be going through this intense Logan ordeal with her, and her family doesn’t even know I exist.”

  “You need to be patient Kay. Try and remember what it was like to come out to your family.”

  “I know and she has it a lot harder that I did. Her parents are way more conservative than mine. Still, it makes me sad.”

  “I bet it makes her sad too.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The wall clock in Fred Archie’s reception area was driving Kay insane. Tick, tick, tick. She and Riley had been waiting for almost thirty minutes and she was no less nervous now than when they’d first walked in. She desperately wanted to remove her suit coat, but her silk blouse was stuck to her moist skin. The pile of evidence they’d brought with them—a banker’s box full of financial reports, a bag of flash drives, each full of data, a few of Kay’s leather-bound notebooks, including the red one she’d swiped from Greg’s home office during the Christmas party—was stacked on the chair next to her. Looking at it gave her confidence.

  They were finally escorted back to a spacious wood-paneled conference room. Fred did not look at all like Kay had imagined. She expected bulldog and he looked more kind and grandfatherly. He had wire-rim glasses, a full head of well-trimmed gray hair that was held in place with pomade, and he was very tall. His finely tailored suit hung off his wiry frame. There were two other men in the room, one about Fred’s age and one who barely looked old enough to shave. The young one was chubby, and he was hunched over his laptop. He typed furiously whenever someone in the room spoke.

  After the usual pleasantries, Fred leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He nodded toward Kay and Riley. “Why don’t you two walk us through what you’ve witnessed at Logan.”

  Kay cleared her throat. “A number of people at the airline are involved in an elaborate price fixing scheme.” She went on to explain to Fred what Concordia was and what the group had been doing. She also mentioned she’d gone to HR and been completely rebuffed.

  Fred interrupted with a question here and there but he mostly just listened and occasionally muttered, “interesting, very interesting.” It was nearly impossible for Kay to tell if he was intrigued by her tale or bored out of his mind. I’d hate to play poker with this guy. When she was done talking, she gestured toward Riley. “I’ll let her explain the second piece.”

  Riley began to explain the anomalies they’d uncovered in Logan’s financial filings, but before she got too far he held up his hand like a traffic cop. “Hold on.” He stood and walked over to a floor-to-ceiling whiteboard. “Okay, please carry on.” Riley continued and as she spoke, Fred used various colored markers to sketch out the scenario she was describing. He wrote inflating ancillary revenue in big block letters and then scribbled bag fees and Logan-branded credit card in a different color marker.

  “
We’ve got reason to believe the CEO of Logan might have a hand in all of this,” Riley explained.

  He sat back down and said, “interesting, very interesting,” again. He flipped open a manila folder. “I’d like to ask you both to sign this.” He pulled two small packets of paper out of the folder and handed one to Riley and the other to Kay. “This is our boilerplate Contingency Fee Agreement,” he said.

  Kay and Riley carefully read the pages of the document as Fred walked them through it. Ethan had explained what a Contingency Fee Agreement was and had told them they’d likely be asked to sign something like it. Kay took it as a positive sign that Fred was presenting them with the document. Hopefully it meant he thought their case had merit.

  “Do you think we should sign it?” Riley whispered.

  “I don’t see why not. If we want Fred to spend time reviewing the information we’ve gathered, we’ve got to show him we’re committed. He needs to know we aren’t going to run off and talk to another attorney.”

  Fred tucked their signed forms back into his folder and asked, “Do you two have any questions for me at this stage?”

  “Do you think our case is compelling?” Riley asked.

  He maintained his poker face. “Obviously, I haven’t had a chance to look at the evidence you two have gathered, but based on what you’ve told me today, yes, I do.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I’ve got to be honest with you, though, these cases aren’t easy, far from it. Many whistleblowers enjoy the ‘cloak and dagger’ aspect of things, but if we move forward, it will be a grueling uphill battle. I need you to be aware of that.”

  “We understand,” Kay replied.

  “And, as I’m sure you know, some whistleblowers receive a financial award.”

  Riley and Kay both nodded.

  “But the truth is, few whistleblower claims lead to an award.”

  “We understand,” Kay said again. “We aren’t in this for the money.”