Page 26 of Allie's Shelter

“Sure, but this isn’t the corporation or the charitable foundation. This is him, personally.”

“How do you know his account number?”

“That first payroll error was duplicated in the next pay cycle, but to his account.”

“Trying to cover his tracks?” Ross’s battle instincts were heating up.

“Most likely. I knew it went higher than Roberts.”

“What did?”

“The problem, the corruption.”

“I thought you were the only one with access.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Technically, I am. Policy requires two signatures on any account. If Roberts went in personally, they would’ve done what he asked. The company is one of the bank’s largest clients. We have acres of accountants who oversee everything. Or they’re supposed to.”

Ross had an opinion, but he wanted hers. “What do you think is happening here, Allie?”

“I know Roberts used that account and my name to launder kickbacks.” She reached forward, clicked on a new tab. “Look at this transfer record. He’d been subtle, but apparently that’s over.”

Ross agreed. “What changed?”

“Before he was killed?” The glow in her cheeks faded and her hands fell from the keyboard.

He didn’t want to push, but he needed to know everything. “Something changed.”

She nodded, sat up a bit straighter in the chair. “I confronted him about problems with a new product.”

“There really was ‘sensitive, proprietary data’?”

“Yes. I have the only remaining proof as far as I know.” She chewed on her lip. “How do you know about the data?”

He waved that off, planning to get to the proof of what later. “Go back to the money. When were the last transfers made?”

“Publicity and public relations for pharmaceuticals is a tough balancing act.” She wasn’t evading the question, more just reminiscing through a daydream. He recognized the sadness in her eyes. It was the result of believing in something good, only to have that belief crushed by an ugly reality. “The public needs the advances and service the company can provide,” she continued, “but they generally don’t trust us. All the pricing games, the small print on ads, it adds up against us.”

“Uh-huh.” He nudged her aside and examined the records himself. “You went in with good intentions and they abused that. I get it.”

“Yeah. I believed in a cause. Believed I could help.”

“This charity thing was a good effort.”

She startled him when she lurched out of the chair. “It was all a sham. I’m running around planning galas and volunteering awards and Roberts slides money through my account and offshore for who knows what.”

“My bet’s on personal gain,” Ross muttered, relieved she didn’t hear him. “Are you sure the only way to do things on the account right now would be for you or Roberts to go in person?”

“Yes. Although if Roberts went in, he might have arranged for his own web access.”

Web or in person, he didn’t like what he was seeing.

“Why are you asking?”

“The dates. These last two are the day before he died. But there’s another one from this morning.”

“Impossible.” She was back by his side, tormenting him with her jasmine-scented hair again. “Move.” She shifted the keyboard and pulled up the transaction details. “How does a dead man walk into a bank?”

“Got me. You’re sure the account was frozen?”

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