Valerie Hansen - Standing Guard

“The embezzlement? Yes. I’m sorry.” Lindy’s fingers itched to get a chance to sort through the messy piles of paperwork.

“Tell you what,” she said, eyeing his desktop. “While you try to figure out what happened to my credit, why don’t I start sorting this stuff into some semblance of order?”

“I don’t know...”

“Well, I do,” she said flatly. “You’re helping me and I’m going to return the favor.” She pushed up the left sleeve of her jacket to check her watch. “I can stay until just before three when I have to pick up Danny at school.”

Thad nodded. “It’s a deal. Let me know when it’s time and I’ll run you back into town.”

“If you do that, I’ll owe you even more hours of work here,” Lindy said.

She was delighted to see him grin and hear him say, “Uh-huh. That’s kind of what I’d figured.”

* * *

Thad was so engrossed in his computer search he let Lindy answer the business phone. He had to smile at how professional her “Pearson Products. How may I help you?” sounded. It was good to have an accomplished executive assistant, if only for one afternoon.

She made a face as she covered the mouthpiece and held out the receiver. “It’s the sheriff. They’ve taken my car into town and parked it behind the station. We can pick it up any time.”

“Okay. Tell them I’m going to call Seth Whitfield at the garage and have him check it over first. You shouldn’t drive it until we know it’s safe.” To his surprise, Lindy looked anything but pleased.

She put the phone back to her ear. “Thank you, Sheriff. Mr. Pearson has suggested that I have the car examined by a mechanic but I’ll take your word for it that it’s roadworthy. We’ll be there before three.”

As soon as she’d hung up he questioned her. “What was that?”

“That was me, taking care of myself and making my own decisions,” Lindy said firmly. “I decided to skip the expense of taking the car to a repairman. The sheriff assures me the damage is only cosmetic.”

“Okay. I can see you don’t want car advice.” He swiveled in his chair and gestured toward the computer screen. “However, I think you should look at what I’ve found online.”

“What?”

Thad allowed her to look over his shoulder while he brought up screen after screen. Then, he ended with her official credit rating and heard her gasp.

“I didn’t know they went that low,” she moaned.

“Neither did I until I saw yours. What’s going on? This shows that you maxed out your credit cards and failed to pay the minimum so they were all canceled.”

“No!” It was nearly a shout. “I don’t use any credit cards unless I absolutely have to. What about my debit card? Did you check that?”

“I’ll need your account number and password,” Thad said. He started to get up so she could take his place at the keyboard.

Instead, she merely recited a short sequence of numbers. He typed them in. He could sense Lindy’s closeness behind him and hear her rapid breathing. The woman was clearly agitated. He didn’t blame her.

The checking account balance blinked onto the screen, accompanied by Lindy’s sharp intake of breath. “That’s impossible. I just transferred money into that account from my savings.” She leaned closer. “Can you check that, too?”

“Sure.” He paged down and clicked on the listing.

Lindy’s squeal of astonishment was so loud and unexpected it made him jump. He felt her hand rest on his shoulder only long enough for her to say, “Sorry.”

“I take it you didn’t know you were broke.”

“I’m not.” She left him and slumped into the only other chair in the room after clearing it of bundles of product brochures. “I have money. At least I did. The investment company my husband worked for has been depositing a portion of his unused sick leave in my account every month and there was a life insurance settlement, too. I paid off my mortgage with that so I wouldn’t have a lot of big expenses.”

Thad leaned back and turned his desk chair to face her. “Okay. Suppose I believe you...”

“What do you mean, suppose? It’s the truth.”

“Poor choice of words. Sorry. What I should have said is, given your belief that you had sufficient funds in your accounts and plenty of room to charge more purchases on your credit and debit cards, what do you think happened to all the money?”

“How should I know?”

He watched her get to her feet and begin to pace what little space the office afforded. He had assumed that he could solve her problems with a few swift keystrokes after he located a simple glitch. This was far more complicated than that. If he believed her—and he did—then she had been hacked. Big time.

“Who would want to falsify records and ruin you?” Thad asked.

When Lindy whirled and gawked at him, he was certain he’d asked the right question. “What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. This is no computer mix-up. It’s deliberate. Somebody wants you broke and they’ve just about succeeded in making that happen. What I need to know is, why? Who’s that mad at you, Lindy?”

“Nobody.” She returned to the chair and perched on its edge, leaning her elbows on her knees and cupping her face in her hands.

“Okay,” he drawled, choosing his words carefully, “then who might still have it in for your late husband?”

Her head snapped up. Her jaw dropped. It took several long seconds for her to regain her composure and in that short space of time, Thad saw myriad conflicting emotions. The final one looked a lot like resignation.

“You don’t have to tell me a thing,” Thad said. “But you should confide in someone, preferably somebody in law enforcement. You do see that, don’t you?”

Standing again, she pulled her jacket tighter, folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Who says I’m afraid?”

“You do. It’s written all over you. And there’s no reason to feel that way when you have an alternative. Talk to the police. Let them help you.”

“I have nothing to say to them. I’ll phone the bank in Atlanta and the other credit card companies, explain the problem, and everything will be fine. You said so yourself.”

“That was before I saw the records.” Thad stood but didn’t try to approach her. He could tell how close she was to the breaking point and didn’t want to do anything that might push her too far. Nevertheless, he felt obliged to try to convince her to be sensible.

He found an empty place for his hip on the edge of the desk and struck a nonchalant pose by perching there. “Look, lady, you’re in big trouble. Somebody has hacked into your accounts and left you destitute. Unless you’re carrying a wad of cash in your purse, you can’t even buy yourself a hamburger right now. Understand?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“The way I see it, you have two choices. You can either report the theft and let the proper authorities step in or you can give up and let the bad guys walk off with your money—not to mention whatever they might also try to charge against your credit in the future.”

He could tell by the way her eyes misted that he had her full attention so he plunged ahead. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the cops for you.”

Lindy’s mouth opened. No words came. Thad didn’t need to hear any. The unbridled fear emanating from her reached him all the way across the office and raised the hair on the nape of his neck.

“They threatened you,” he said flatly. “I should have known. What did they say?”

Lindy pressed her lips tightly together, shook her head and averted her gaze.

Thad decided to take the chance of approaching, of gently grasping her shoulders so she’d have no choice but to look at him. When she didn’t jump at his touch or try to slap his face the way he was afraid she might, he took it as a positive sign.