Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136743 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
I fold my arms across my chest in what I recognize is a defensive posture, but I can’t help it. I feel defensive. I don’t know if Edward’s animosity toward Judah is completely justified, but I do know he has something to do with how my life has been destroyed.
“I gotta give it to you,” I say, not even bothering to round the edges of my harsh words. “You got some nerve coming to my house when you’re the man who put my family in this situation.”
“Let’s be very clear.” He watches me intently. “I’m not the man who put your family in this situation. Your husband did that, but I am the man who wants to get you out of it. I’m taking a risk just coming to talk to you about this. If I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t even try.”
I frown, processing his words. “How can you help? Why are you here?”
“To encourage you to cooperate with the FBI any way you can. Tell them everything you know.”
“I don’t know anything. They asked me a lot of questions last night, and I told them the truth. I can’t help them. And why would I help them prosecute my husband?”
“Because in cases like these, the spouse is always a suspect. Who benefits more from Edward stealing this much money than you? They’ll be watching to see if you access the offshore accounts or try to run to the summer house or—”
“Offshore accounts?” My head spins and, trembling, I rest one hand on the pool table for support. “The hell? What summer house? I have no idea what any of this is about.”
“You may not,” Judah says grimly. “But Edward does.”
Every time I think I might see just a bit of the sky, another set of storm clouds rolls in. A house and accounts I’ve never heard about? I don’t want to believe it, but a tug in my gut gives me pause, feeds my rage that I even have to sort this shit. All because of two men. One of them is behind bars and one of them stands in front of me right now.
“You actually think Edward stole six million dollars?” I ask.
“No.” Before I have time to allow myself any relief, he goes on. “It’s actually five million, eight hundred thousand, four hundred forty-four dollars and thirty-three cents. At least that’s how much I’ve been able to trace. There’s probably more.”
“You can’t know—”
“I’m a forensic accountant. A damn good one, so yes, I can know.”
“And how exactly do you think Edward stole all that money?”
“The White Glove program. He was invoicing customers more for their annual fees than he was recording in CalPot’s books.”
My heartbeat stutters. “I don’t… I don’t understand.” I link my hands behind my head to keep them from trembling. “How is that even possible?”
“So many cases of embezzlement happen because a company trusts one person too much and gives them too much leeway. Edward had too much autonomy and very little oversight. That was a red flag for me before I even met him. And after I met him…”
He lifts his brows and allows a mocking tilt to his lips. “Let’s just say meeting him only increased my suspicion.”
“Why?”
“He’s arrogant, entitled, and thinks, mistakenly I might add, that his shit doesn’t stink. He doesn’t have the competence to back up his confidence. Guys like that often look for shortcuts to excel since they don’t have the actual work ethic to achieve. It’s the here-and-there kind of theft employees often get away with for a long time. Some never get caught. In addition to the surplus Edward collected from annual fees, he also held those retreats twice a year. When I dug into the expenses, they were higher than they should have been. I checked with hotels and airlines and several vendors to find original receipts, which showed a pattern of them charging us less than we paid. Edward had complete control, and the amounts were sometimes so small most wouldn’t even notice.”
“But you’re not most, huh?” I don’t know if my words are accusing or admiring.
“You asked how I thought Edward pulled it off and I’m telling you.”
I run a weary hand over my face, glancing through the window to our back lawn with the firepit and bright green grass that have earned us yard of the month more than once. “I… I need to talk to my husband. I need to hear from him. To… I just need to talk to him.”
“He hasn’t called?” Judah asks with a frown.
“Well, he’s a little busy fighting for his life. I’m sure he’ll get around to it as soon as he’s all done with that.”
Judah levels an exasperated look at me. “I didn’t make this up out of thin air. The evidence is there. We just need more of it. I don’t actually give a fuck what happens to Edward because he deserves these consequences. I’m here because you and your daughters don’t.”