Stephanie Feagan - Show Her The Money

“I don’t even know the man. And I don’t think he’s the least bit attractive.”

“Why?” Mom frowned at me over her fajita stuffed tortilla.

“Gee, let me count the ways. Could it be because he made me tell the entire United States about Mister Bob?”

“He meant well. How could he have known about Mister Bob?”

She had a point, but I was not in the mood to be understanding. I refocused on Ed’s face. His very attractive, manly face, with a five-o’clock shadow and really nice brown eyes. “What do you want to know that isn’t already out there?”

He swallowed his drink of tea, set the glass down and said easily, “I want to know how you knew about the memos and how you got them.”

Sitting back in my chair, I stared at him for a long time.

“You’re going to have to trust me,” Ed said.

I took a long drink of tea. Would he believe me? Or would he be like Mr. Dryer and Barbara Clemmons and assume I was as guilty as the partners at the firm? I supposed there was only one way to find out. “When I discovered the enormous amount of debt Marvel carries off the books, and how close the company was to defaulting on those loans, I went to Lowell and told him. He said I should forget the loans, that I should just conduct the audit and make sure I had workpapers to back up clean financials.”

“He told you to lie?”

“Only a lot. That’s when I knew he’d set me up. He promoted me and put me in charge of the audit so when the news broke that Marvel is basically bankrupt, I’d be in the hot seat. I’d get my license jerked for gross negligence while Lowell stood back and acted like he had no clue. The firm would stay in business and my career would be history. I was the sacrificial lamb.”

“He didn’t count on you blowing the whistle.”

“Not hardly. Or maybe he just thought I wasn’t smart enough to figure it all out. The day I suggested we should go to the SEC with what I’d found, he went ballistic. I told him I was gonna do it, and he fired me. The next day, I turned over copies of Marvel’s debt instruments to the SEC, thinking they’d investigate, fine the company and demand they clean up their act. Instead, they asked me a lot of questions about how we’d conducted the audit in the past, about how much debt Marvel had during those years and how we missed it. That’s when it dawned on me, Marvel had been hiding debt at least three years before the current year, and Lowell must have known all along. That’s when I knew we weren’t just talking about losing a CPA license. We were talking about criminal charges against any of the management who worked on the Marvel audit during the past several years, including me. By blowing the whistle on Marvel, I’d basically set myself up. No way anyone would believe I wasn’t aware of the cover-up.”

Ed gave me a funny look and I held my breath. He had to believe me. If he didn’t, how could I hire him to represent me, to help me get through the next hearing?

“If you’d realized the hidden debt was there in years past, would you still have gone to the SEC?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitating. “It all would have come out eventually because Marvel didn’t have the income they needed to pay off the loans, but I hoped I could get things straightened out before they had to declare bankruptcy. I hoped I could keep the stock from losing all of its value.”

“Even if it meant putting yourself on the line?”

“Even then, but I didn’t realize my position until I went to the SEC and they started asking a lot of questions. I was scared to death, and figured my only hope was to find something that proved the deal was between Lowell and the CFO and CEO at Marvel, which would go a long way toward proving me and the others who worked on the audit had no clue about the debt.”

“The memos,” Mom said, her dark eyes wide.

“As it turned out, there were memos, but for all I knew, it could have been on the back of a cocktail napkin. I went to the office late one night, got in with a key card I swiped and hit pay dirt. I called the SEC the following morning and set up an appointment to deliver one of the disk copies a couple of days later. They asked if I was willing to testify in front of the finance committee and I said I’d have to consult an attorney. I hired Mr. Dryer, and he set up a deal that I’d have immunity from any prosecution, if it came to that, in exchange for my testimony. When the disks were ripped off, I didn’t want to admit it, thinking I might still be able to get my hands on the Mister Bob copy.”

“Do you think they offered the deal because of the memos?”

“Mr. Dryer said so. He says if I don’t get the last disk, they’ll withdraw immunity and I can be prosecuted along with Lowell and the other principals at the firm.”

“Santorelli made it sound like they can’t prosecute anyone without the memos,” Mom said, her face pale. “If you don’t turn them over, they can’t prosecute you, so why does it matter? You don’t need immunity.”

I hadn’t counted on Mom being so difficult. “I lucked out when I found those memos, and I’m sure they’ve been destroyed by now, but there may be other letters, or e-mails or something they can use to bring charges against the firm. It may even become obvious that the firm signed off on fraudulent financial statements. I have no idea, Mom.”

“You can’t be prosecuted if you’re innocent!”

“I’m afraid she can,” Ed said in a deep, calm voice. “Guilt by association. She might not be found guilty, but she can certainly be prosecuted.”

Mom rubbed her hand across her forehead. “What a nightmare.” She looked at Ed and said, “And as if it’s not bad enough, she’s got some maniac after her.”

“Maniac?” He turned a questioning look toward me.

I explained about the loft, the car and the missing copies of the disk, but before I could finish, Mom went off about the Dog Doo Stalker.

I ate my fajitas and didn’t add anything. I didn’t need to.

“…and after she went to the SEC, he started calling in the middle of the night, threatening to kill her if she gives the disk to the finance committee. I told her, she should get rid of the disk, but she insists…”

I tuned her out by wondering if Ed was married, or had a girlfriend. I wasn’t interested in starting a relationship or anything like that, but I’d been alone a long time, and something about Ed really punched my buttons.

When Mom was on the verge of foaming at the mouth about the danger I was in, Ed held up his hand and stopped her. Turning to look at me, he asked, “Do you have any clue who he is?”

I slanted a “duh” look at him. “Because of me, at least fifteen men are about to lose their jobs, and some of them may be starting new careers making license plates in the joint.”

“You think one of the Marvel executives, or a partner at your firm may be behind all this?”

I shrugged. “Stands to reason, doesn’t it? They have the most to lose.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll represent you, Pink, but you have to agree not to talk to anyone at Marvel. They have a branch office here in Midland, so you’re likely to run into some of the employees. And do not tell anyone where Mister Bob is right now. After what I discovered during the lawsuit against Marvel, I don’t trust any of them. This is the big leagues. The dog shit dude is a nuisance, but these guys mean business. One wrong move, one small leak of information, one hint that all you’ve got can be taken, and you could be playing a harp.”

He managed to scare me spitless. I shot a look at Mom and felt an enormous guilt trip for freaking her out so badly. Her food forgotten, she sat back in her chair and stared a hole through me, a couple of fat tears rolling down her pretty cheeks. “Jesus, Mom, don’t cry.”