Page 28 of Love & Other Disasters

“I’m sure there’s an innocent explanation,” he said, scrolling through the numbers on one spreadsheet.

Violet sighed, her shoulder slumped. “You’re a terrible liar,” she whispered on her way out.

He wanted to call after her, but refrained. Their emotions sat close to the surface, and if he pushed right now, personal feelings would come out and get entangled in this mess. And he didn’t want the entire office to figure out about him and Violet. That needed to stay between the two of them. What would happen if Bob or the board members discovered this? And more important, was only Melvin involved in making employees work on spreadsheets? What about Bob? Where did this mess stop?

Jordan brought up the company instant messenger and found Violet.

Jordan: Who else only worked on spreadsheets?

A minute later a response bubble showed her typing.

Violet: Monique and Bonnie, not sure about anyone else.

Jordan: Did he also have them delete their files?

Violet: They didn’t tell me.

Violet said maddening little about her coworkers’ duties. Which could be a symptom of a defective company culture. Was she still lying to him? Could her outward refusal to believe that anything underhanded happened because she was in on it? Was Violet Murphy that talented of an actress? Or was she that naïve?

J.P. picked up his cell and called Melvin McAvoy; he picked up on the third ring. “Melvin, it’s Jordan Harper,” he said, faking more upbeat than the truth of turmoil roiling beneath the surface.

“What can I do for you, son?”

“I’m just trying to get my sea legs over here. Would you mind running through some of your policies and procedures for me?”

There was a slight, almost imperceptible, pause. “I’m in the middle of the tenth hole right now out on the green. It’s my turn. Call me around two this afternoon, and we can go over your questions.”

“I’m putting it on my calendar,” he said. Melvin had already disconnected. Jordan scrolled through his contacts and pressed the number for Mike Davis, his buddy from Atlanta, who also worked as a private detective.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Mike answered. “How’s Nashville?”

“It’s a mess. I need to enlist your services. Can you work here?”

“It so happens, I can. Who?”

“Melvin McAvoy, former CFO of Medi-Health.”

“You think he’s dirty?”

“That’s what I’m hoping you’ll find out. And Bob Levy. He’s the CEO.”

“Got it. Anyone else?”

Should he? No. He shouldn’t. But he needed the answer.

“No one will find out, right?”

“Not unless I find something criminal, and then have to testify.”

If she were a criminal, then it wouldn’t matter. “Violet Murphy, she’s from Nashville.”

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