Page 55 of Fifth Avenue Devil

"Annalise," Lori begins. “I’m sorry that we pounced on you. Lance sandbagged me. I didn’t even have the time to send you a text.”

“It’s okay,” I assure her. I exhale a long breath. “God, I was hoping to replace all the missing funds before anyone noticed.”

Lori sends me a distressed expression. “There's something you need to know. I've done some digging of my own. I checked the IT logs, trying to see if the person who did this was stupid enough to leave their digital fingerprints all over their logins. The login used to make those money transferswasyour father's login. But it probably wasn’t him."

“What?” My heart skips a beat. "What are you saying?"

"I looked into the dates more deeply. I just checked your father’s business calendar before, to line up the dates of the withdrawals with his availability. But it turns out that your father was actually out of town during two of the transactions. His personal secretary had the dates and times of every flight he took, including two flights that would have taken him out of the country just before two of the transactions.” Lori takes a beats. “The level of sophistication needed to fake the login records is beyond anything your father could have done himself. It’spossiblethat he hired help, but I know you father very well. It's doubtful that he committed this fraud."

"Then who could’ve done it?" I demand, incredulous.

I already know the players in this game, though. My father, Don Young, even Lori or Lance. There’s also the distinct possibility that it was someone else. But who? Who else would have the company knowledge and access to the bank accounts?

Without further evidence, there are just too many suspects.

"Thank you, Lori," I murmur. "I'll find the damn truth, no matter what it takes."

“We’ll find out who is responsible. Lance and I have that covered. Your job is figuring out how you’ll handle this when it becomes public.”

I look at her with surprise. “You think it will?”

“Lance just assured us that the information will be public knowledge sooner or later. Your task will be disciplining the perpetrator. It’s easy to fire the guy if he’s a VP like Don. But what if Lance starts making noise?”

I raise a trembling hand to my heart. Lori is right, of course. The public will need a strong response from the acting CEO to ensure the survival of Gellar Industries.

When I don’t respond, Lori squeezes my arm comfortingly. Then she leaves me alone on the balcony with my thoughts. All I can think is that someone is playing a dangerous game.

And I won't let them sacrifice me or Gellar Industries as part of their endgame.

Twenty-Two

Nate

The sun casts long shadows across Central Park. I’m dressed in loose, gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. As I lean against a bench, I stretch my quads, mindful of the run I will go on soon.

If my damn private investigator ever shows up.

I search the park patrons for his face. A nanny pushing a stroller. Two young guys at a hot dog stand, and an older vendor. Several older women with austere expressions speed-walking past.

I walk impatiently to the nearby Alice in Wonderland statue and check my watch. The cool breeze of early autumn brushes against my face, but it does little to soothe the burning that I feel.

Annalise Gellar has been on my mind for far too long. I have questions about her that only Rahim can answer.

"Mr. Fordham." A gruff voice pulls me from my thoughts. I turn to find Rahim Abbas standing behind me. He’s dressed in a ratty gray sportscoat and worn jeans.

There is nothing noteworthy about Rahim whatsoever. He blends in perfectly on a New York City street.

“Let’s keep moving,” he suggests, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. Without waiting, he starts walking. Rahim’s natural walking pace is quick and I have to jog a few steps to keep up.

"Have you found anything?" I demand. “You’ve been following Ms. Gellar for a few weeks but you haven’t reported anything.”

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Rahim answers, shrugging slightly. "Ms. Gellar is just going about her business. Other than her frequent overnight visits to your penthouse, she doesn’t go anywhere other than work and home."

That’s not terribly surprising. I didn’t expect Rahim to find any skeletons hidden in Annalise’s closet. She’s too young to have much to hide.

“I’d like you to switch your focus. I want you to dig up dirt on the board members of Gellar Industries. I want to know anything that I can use as leverage against them."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this change of direction. But he is the very definition of discretion. "You got it, Mr. Fordham." He doesn't ask questions about what I need the information for. He is the consummate professional private investigator.

---