by Renée Dahlia
‘That doesn’t make sense. What sort of equipment?’
‘I’d have to go back through the data. Are you sure? Maybe Sam has been doing something?’
‘Sam!’ Kiet bellowed. Zoe jerked in her chair, cringing at the sudden noise. She hadn’t even noticed Sam wasn’t in the kitchen with them, but of course, he wouldn’t be, because she was late for dinner. The Thai-style beef salad was still fresh and crispy with just the right amount of chilli. If she wasn’t distracted by the numbers, she might have asked what the dish was called, but she parked that question for later.
‘Yeah?’ Sam poked his head into the room.
‘What equipment have you been buying lately?’
‘None. Why?’
Zoe jumped up from the table. ‘Both of you. Come with me.’ She marched back to the little office where her laptop sat. With a few clicks, she pulled up the transactions noted under equipment by their bookkeeper.
‘What does this mean?’ She pointed at the screen, and while they were reading, she grabbed the office files and tried to find one of the invoices to see if they had any further information.
‘None of this makes sense. We haven’t bought anything from them.’ Kiet frowned. ‘Or have we? Sam?’
‘Nah, I don’t recognise this.’
There it was. Zoe pulled out the latest invoice. ‘Here, take a look at this.’
‘Fifteen grow-out tumblers and a hundred storm clips. A hundred.’ Kiet cursed and shoved the invoice at Sam who shook his head.
‘We would never buy that. I make all my own tumblers. And …’ Sam straightened out the piece of paper. ‘These prices are ridiculous. What is happening here?’
Zoe tried not to smile—it was no smiling matter—but she might have solved the problem. The familiar rush filled her veins, the heady sensation that she was about to declare victory. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop her smile.
‘There are two options.’
‘Which are?’ Kiet demanded with his hands on his hips. He leaned in closer.
‘You don’t need to intimidate me.’ Zoe held up her hand and Kiet immediately stepped back out of her space. ‘Your options are that this company has been invoicing you by accident. Maybe they have you mixed up with another company on their books. The other option is that this is a fraudulent company, set up to send invoices out in the hope that you will pay them.’ As expected, the two brothers spluttered and yelled in fury. Zoe waited for their outrage to die down. She’d been here before, and their reaction was completely normal. No one liked to be scammed, and the next phase would be self-blame and guilt. She sucked in a deep breath as they stopped talking.
‘To answer your first question, these scammers get away with it, because small businesses don’t always have great accounting systems. Who pays your invoices?’
‘Mrs Doyle. She’s worked for us since before I was born. My parents trusted her, and so do I.’ Kiet’s voice rang with the guilt she’d expected, and a fair bit of defensiveness.
‘Okay. I’m not accusing her of anything.’ Zoe held up her hand in a stop signal. ‘And in fact, her long experience makes it easier for a company to scam you.’
‘Why?’ Kiet and Sam spoke together.
‘She recognises enough about the business that she would see this invoice and pay it without asking you first. It looks legitimate, it uses the right type of language. It’s exactly what a clever scammer would do. And once you’ve paid one, they’ll keep sending them to you, because they know it works.’
‘That’s fucked.’ Kiet’s eyes flashed.
Zoe agreed. ‘People don’t scam others to be nice.’ Sympathy for their plight built in her chest like a dull ache and she wanted to rub her knuckles against her breastbone. She’d always hated this part of her old job, and many of the old anxieties rose up, colouring her vision. She closed her eyes and grabbed the side of the desk.
‘Are you alright?’ Kiet gently swung his arm around her waist and helped ease her down onto a chair. She concentrated on breathing as her lungs stopped working and she gasped in slow shuddery breaths. How did she used to deal with this? The hurt and anguish in people’s voices when they found out they’d been a victim of fraud. She’d buried it until there was so much hiding inside her that it’d all spilled out and she’d gotten physically ill. Damn, how could she have forgotten this side of the work? Slowly her breathing returned to normal, speeding up to the right rhythm. Kiet stood beside her with his hand resting on her shoulder. She was grateful for his calm touch, it helped ground her in the real world.
‘Um, yeah, I’ll be okay.’ She’d forgotten how the joy of figuring out the puzzle was always followed by the real emotional consequences for her client. Her favourite cases in that job had been the ones working as a consultant to the tax office or the police, where the numbers weren’t about helping victims, but about sending a crook to jail. But crooks always had victims and she could never keep the numbers separate from the people who were hurt. Her old boss used to say she cared too much, that’s why she’d never get as far ahead as her talent promised. As if empathy was a character fault. She licked her dry lips, tasting a remnant of chilli on her skin. A little burn to keep her focused on this moment.
‘So … what do we do now? Can we get the money back?’ Sam asked under his breath, so quiet she almost didn’t hear it. Honestly, she didn’t need to. Hear it, that was. Everyone always asked that question next.
‘It depends. If it’s a mistake by the company, and we can prove that, then you have a case, and you might be lucky enough to negotiate a payment schedule. But—’
‘But what?’
‘I’ll need to do some research on the company. Fortunately, all your equipment invoices go to this one company, Tanner’s Farm Equipment, so it should be straight forward.’ Zoe pulled her laptop closer and started to open the web browser.
‘Do you need anything else?’ Kiet asked.
‘A drink of water would be great. Otherwise, it’s just a matter of doing a search on the company name or their ABN—their business number.’ She typed as she spoke, doing as she’d outlined. The results of her search came back and she stared at the screen. Why did that name sound familiar? Lindsey Transport. Tanner’s Farm Equipment was owned by a transport company.
‘This isn’t good.’ She mumbled as she opened a new tab and went through the process of researching Lindsey Transport. Nothing. Hang on. What? How could an unregistered company own the equipment company? Unless it was the trading name of a sole trader, but even then, she ought to be able to find them via their ABN? In which case … she had more work to do. And why did Lindsey Transport sound so familiar? Zoe flicked back to her spreadsheet and used the search function … Yeah, there it was.
‘Why do you use so many different transport companies?’ The list of invoices covered off at least four different companies.
‘Location. It depends on where they are taking our product.’ Kiet removed his hand from her shoulder and she immediately missed the connection. An unsettling warm spot remained on her skin, as if he’d painted her with warm honey. It didn’t burn, nor was it unwanted, it was just odd that she could feel his touch after he’d stopped touching her. She rolled that shoulder as she ran her eyes over the list of invoices paid to transport companies. She mentally noted the date of the last invoice from Lindsey Transport. She jumped out of the chair and rifled through the paper invoices, her fingers scrambling over the piles of paper, until she found it and gasped. The invoice had the same layout and fonts as Tanner’s Farm Equipment. She reached out and tugged the other invoice out of Sam’s hand and lay them on the table beside each other.
‘Lindsey Transport owns Tanner’s Farm Equipment, but Lindsey Transport isn’t registered as a company. And look at this—the invoices are almost identical.’
‘Lindsey Transport?’ Kiet asked. ‘I don’t remember ever seeing a truck with that name arrive on site. Where did they say they went?’
Zoe scanned the invoice. ‘Sydney.’ Kiet curse
d and started pacing.
‘That’s not helpful. More than eighty per cent of our oysters go to the Sydney market,’ Sam interjected.
‘This has to be someone who knows your business. What are the odds that two companies—that are connected—sent you invoices in such a fashion that your bookmaker would automatically pay them without query?’ Zoe sat down again and kept hunting through various internet databases to see if she could find an owner for Lindsey Transport. They wouldn’t be allowed to own Tanner’s Farm Equipment without being a legitimate company, which meant there would be a record somewhere. She’d probably have to pay for a record from the corporate regulator, ASIC. With a click, she opened a new tab, and scanned through the requirements on their website.
‘What have you found? Why are you humming?’ Kiet leaned over her shoulder, staring at the screen.
‘Humming? Just thinking. Look, the most likely scenario is that Lindsey Transport is owned by a sole trader but the ABN isn’t coming up as valid. I’ll have to apply for the records.’ She opened the form and glared at it—she’d filled these in a million times so that it should be automatic but the form looked overly complex all of a sudden. She rubbed her eyes, then tapped her fingers on the side of the keyboard. Hadn’t her former colleague Narelle gone to work for ASIC? Zoe opened a new tab on her computer to open one of her social media accounts—she could message her through the app, and then maybe chat.
Zoe: Hey Narelle. Long time, no see. Look, I know I should’ve chatted before now …
‘That doesn’t look like work.’ Kiet huffed over her shoulder.
‘I know someone who might be able to speed up the system for us, and this is the only contact I have for them.’
Narelle: OMG. Zoe! You just disappeared off the face of the earth. What are you up to now? You sly dog! :D
Zoe: Haven’t you seen my posts? I moved back home.
Narelle: With your folks?
Zoe: Nah. Just to the same town. Anyway, I know it’s crap to just jump in, but are you still with ASIC?
Narelle: Yeah. I thought you were touring around. All those pretty sunset photos and the river and shit. Wow—you live there?
Zoe: Yeah. It’s pretty, but you wouldn’t believe the underbelly of financial crime I’ve uncovered.
Narelle: Spill.
Zoe: Can I call? Narelle sent her mobile number and Zoe opened her contacts and added it before calling her.
‘Give me all the goss, darl. It’s been an age. There were so many rumours about you after you disappeared.’
‘I didn’t disappear. I took extended sick leave, and then quit.’ Zoe leaned back against the chair.
‘Oh shit, darl. Did you have the dreaded c word?’
‘Cancer? No, just stress.’ Zoe hated admitting that she couldn’t handle the high-stress environment.
‘Fair enough. That’s why I leaped on ASIC’s offer. The pay isn’t quite as good, but the hours are amazing, and the benefits almost make up for the loss in income. I totally get it.’
‘So … I know it’s kind of rude to just pop into your DMs after so long then ask for a favour, but—’
Narelle’s laughter filled Zoe’s ear. ‘Darl, it’s cool. I want to know all about this hotbed of crime.’
‘Okay. So a farmer I know …’
‘Is he hot?’ Narelle interrupted and Zoe’s face bloomed with heat. She refused to glance sideways at Kiet who hovered in the room. Thankfully he and Sam could only hear her side of the conversation.
‘Yes. Very.’
‘I want a photo. Then I’ll help with anything.’
Zoe giggled. She’d missed Narelle’s bubbly friendship. They’d often commiserated over champagne after long days in the office, and while it was great to live with Jade, it was different with a sister. Narelle didn’t have the shared history. It had allowed Zoe to be freer. ‘Yeah, alright.’
‘Are you banging him?’
‘Narelle!’ Zoe shrieked.
‘Is that a “hell yes”, or a “no he’s gay and it’s so not fair”?’ Narelle always had a way of making her laugh in the most inappropriate way.
‘Later. I’ll tell you everything later. What I need is pretty simple. There are a couple of companies who are skimming from … well, at least this farm, probably others, and I want to chase down their real ownership.’
‘Our website, or the ABN Lookup page, will tell you that.’
‘Except, it doesn’t. I know they are supposed to show when a company name is owned by a sole trader, but—’
‘Yeah, if they are just trading as a name, but it’s not a registered name, then it’s trickier to find. It’s buried in the database, just not on the public search. I’ll find it for you. What’s the name?’
‘Lindsey Transport.’ Zoe spelled the name and gave Narelle the ABN even though it’d come up blank.
‘Cool. Give me a few days, and then you totally owe me a bottle of bubbles.’
‘Absolutely. I’m sorry it took me so long to ring you. I miss our chats.’ Zoe twisted her hand in her skirt.
‘Regret is a bitch. Don’t stress about it. I’m sure you have your reasons, and you are going to tell me all about them.’
Zoe giggled. ‘You always did know how to drag the truth out of people.’
‘It’s a skill, darl. Laters. I’ll flick you the names via DM.’
‘Thanks.’ Zoe started to say more, but Narelle had already hung up. She stood up straight and turned to face Kiet and Sam who were exchanging rapid glances.
‘So that was my friend. She’s going to help.’ Zoe cringed at her own awkwardness. ‘Um, while we wait for Narelle’s information, why not think about who you know that knows your business well enough to set up this scheme?’
‘Elizabeth, obviously,’ Kiet growled.
‘And Mrs Doyle, and anyone at the Doyle accounting firm,’ Sam added in a tone that sounded like he’d rolled his eyes at Kiet.
‘Hang on. Say that again? Is your bookkeeper related to your accountant?’ Zoe stepped forward right into the space occupied by Kiet. He shifted backwards, but for that second, she felt his breath on her cheek. Distracting. He smelled like soap and the salad he’d cooked for dinner, with that underlying fresh sea-salt scent that seemed to be part of him.
‘Yes and no.’
‘Which is it?’
‘Mrs Doyle is the sister-in-law of the guy who started the accounting firm. He died ages ago, and the firm is run by a group of other accountants now. Mr Andersen who does our accounts has been with the Doyle firm for years. I’m pretty sure he …’
Zoe held her breath, hunting through her memory for a connection that seemed just out of reach.
‘He’s alright. It won’t be him, he’s been the farm’s accountant since before we were born,’ Sam reinforced what Kiet had said. Born …
‘I know him. Andersen. Is he married to Mrs Andersen who is a midwife at the district hospital?’ The Andersen family had been members of her parents’ church for decades. Their daughter, Joanne, was much younger than her; Zoe had babysat her a few times when she’d been at high school and Joanne at primary school.
‘I have no idea. Mrs Doyle would know. She’ll be back in a few days.’ Kiet rolled his head on his shoulders, and his neck cracked so loud that Zoe winced at the sound. She could ask her parents, but no, she wasn’t ready to talk to them just yet. Jade might know. Zoe grabbed her phone and texted her sister. Her phone dinged back.
Jade: Why do you want to know about them? Didn’t you quit?
Zoe: It’s about something else. Zoe would never drag Jade into anything to do with her parents’ church, not after the rude way they’d dismissed her from their lives. As far as Zoe was concerned, her family consisted of only her and Jade.
Jade: Yeah. If he offered you a job, say no.
Zoe: Why? What do you know?
Jade: It’s old news.
Zoe: Tell me.
Jade: His daughter ran off with some guy a couple of years ago.
; Zoe: Joanne? I used to babysit her.
Jade: That just shows how long you were away from town. Besides, she’s not the sweet kid she used to be.
Zoe: I never said anything about sweet. Zoe recalled a rather spoilt little girl, but she didn’t blame the kid for the parents’ lack of care. Kids didn’t need money thrown at them, they needed hugs.
Jade: Yeah, not nice.
Zoe: What does any of that have to do with Mr Andersen?
Jade: Fucked if I know, but if he grew a mean kid like that, he’s not going to be great to work with.
Zoe laughed. Trust Jade to get to the heart of the matter.
Zoe: He solves problems by throwing money at them. He’d prob be ok as a boss.
Jade: Hah, those type of people are the worst. They’ll cheat their employees to give more to their darling sprogs.
Zoe: Children.
Jade: Not everyone wants small people to look after.
Chapter 9
Seeing Zoe at work with all her focus on the screen was damned hot. The little frown between her brows as she concentrated on the spreadsheet, and the clack of her fingers on the keyboard—without even looking at the keys too—as she did clever things with equations and the like. Her whole face lit up when she chatted to her colleague on the phone, a light pink flush across her cheeks and nose at something her colleague had said, and her cautious smile. She was engaged with the conversation and he wanted all that attention on him one day, to bask in her smiles. Kiet almost didn’t want her to solve this mystery, because then she’d go back to her normal life, and he’d go back to his. And that would be the end of it.
They’d been extra careful not to touch each other over the past few days after she’d traced his hands with her soft finger. He’d stepped away. He wished he hadn’t, wished he’d taken the chance to taste her. It would have been so easy to kiss her then. To discover her taste on his lips, to savour her. But he knew she would draw him in, and he wouldn’t be able to keep the distance he needed. He preferred his own rough hand, or random willing women in the city on his quarterly trips to visit clients. He hadn’t been to the city for a year—Elizabeth had done the trips recently as the farm’s marketing manager—and he didn’t really miss it. The pointless, emotionless sex with women who wouldn’t remember him a week later. It was better than getting close to someone only to have them abandon him, but not by much.
