Chương 6
The room became very quiet.
Marcus read faster.
"What kind of payments?"
Dana answered carefully.
"According to the complaint, duplicate invoices and payments for work the vendor says it never performed."
My hands went numb.
"How much?"
"The complaint only identifies about ninety-four thousand."
"Only?"
"I mean the scope could be larger."
Marcus turned another page.
"Where did the hundred and eighty thousand come from?"
I asked.
Both of them looked at me.
I felt my stomach drop.
"I heard Grant and Colleen mention money last night, but not a number."
"Then don't invent one," Dana said.
"I didn't."
I pressed my fingertips to my forehead.
"I think I assumed."
That frightened me almost as much as the documents.
I had been filling gaps because fear wanted a complete story.
Marcus pushed the papers aside.
"Good catch."
"Good?"
"Yes."
He looked directly at me.
"If we are going to do this, we distinguish what you heard from what you're afraid is true."
Dana nodded.
"Otherwise you become unreliable to yourself."
I hated the sentence.
I needed it anyway.
The back door opened.
Caleb stepped in from taking the dogs outside and stopped when he saw the strangers and papers.
Dana glanced at him.
"Morning."
"Hi."
He looked at me.
"More lawyers?"
"One lawyer."
Dana raised her thermos.
"I'm the suspicious person."
Caleb nodded solemnly.
"We have several of those now."
Then he walked upstairs.
Dana watched him go.
"Smart kid."
"Everybody keeps saying that."
"Does it bother you?"
"Today, yes."
She closed the folder.
"There is another problem."
Marcus looked at her.
"You said three things."
"I said three worth discussing."
"That's lawyer language and you're not a lawyer."
"I spend too much time with you people."
She took out her phone.
"Grant called his company's main office at seven fourteen this morning."
I stared at her.
"How could you know that?"
"I don't."
She turned the screen toward us.
"His employer posted a public notice twenty minutes ago announcing that Grant Holloway is no longer authorized to act on behalf of the company in vendor, banking, purchasing, or contract matters."
Marcus read it twice.
"Effective immediately."
Dana nodded.
"That sort of notice usually has a reason."
My phone buzzed on the table.
Grant had sent me a photograph of two paper coffee cups sitting in his car.
Beneath it he had written, Rehearsal fuel for later.
Dana watched my face.
"He doesn't know you know anything."
"No."
"Keep it that way until your attorney tells you otherwise."
Marcus gave her an offended look.
"I was planning to say that."
"Say it faster."
My phone rang before either of them could continue.
Grant's name appeared again.
This time, when I answered, I heard traffic and his breathing.
"Mara."
His voice had changed completely.
"What's wrong?"
"I need a favor."
Marcus and Dana both went still.
Grant exhaled.
"I need you to transfer some money for me today."
"How much?"
There was a pause, and I heard Grant's turn signal clicking in the background.
"Twenty-five thousand."
Dana's eyebrows rose.
Marcus wrote the number on his legal pad and underlined it once.
"For what?"
"It's temporary."
"That isn't what I asked."
Grant exhaled as though I were making a simple favor unnecessarily difficult.
"I have a vendor issue at work."
"What kind of issue?"
"Accounting screwed something up."
Dana silently mouthed, Good.
Marcus gave her a warning look.
Grant continued.
"A payment got held, and I need to bridge it until Monday."
"Your company can't do that?"
"They can."
"Then why don't they?"
"It's complicated."
I stared at the public notice on Dana's phone.
The words no longer authorized seemed almost indecent beside Grant's calm explanation.
"What vendor?"
"Mara."
"What?"
"I really don't want to spend my morning doing an audit with you."
The familiar irritation in his voice almost made me apologize.
That reflex frightened me.
I pressed my palm against the edge of the table.
"If you need twenty-five thousand dollars from me, I get to ask what it's for."
He was quiet.
When he answered, the warmth had returned.
"You're right."
Marcus looked at me and shook his head once, not disagreement but caution.
Grant said, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"No, I'm stressed and taking it out on you."
He paused.
"It's a subcontractor on the Harrisburg property."
"Which one?"
"Kepler Millwork."
Dana typed the name into her phone.
Grant went on.
"They installed custom cabinetry, and there was a payment dispute."
"Why are you personally responsible?"
"Because I approved the work."
"That doesn't make you personally responsible."
Another turn signal clicked.
Grant did not answer immediately.
Then he said, "Can we talk about this in person?"
"We're talking now."
"I know, but this is embarrassing."
There it was.
Not anger.
Not pressure.
Shame.
Real or manufactured, I could not tell.
"I made a mistake," he said.
"What kind?"
"I guaranteed something I shouldn't have guaranteed."
I watched Marcus write each phrase.
"What did you guarantee?"
"The subcontractor's payment."
"In writing?"
"Sort of."
"How is something sort of in writing?"
Grant gave a humorless laugh.
"You sound like Marcus."
Marcus silently raised his coffee cup to me.
"I've heard worse."
"Mara, please."
His voice dropped.
"I just need twenty-five until Monday."
"And Monday?"
"A receivable clears."
"From where?"
"My consulting company."
The room seemed to sharpen.
That was the first time Grant had ever acknowledged the company's existence to me.
"You have a consulting company?"
Silence.
Then, "I told you about that."
"No, you didn't."
"I must have."
"You didn't."
He sighed.
"This is exactly why I didn't want to do this over the phone."
"What's it called?"
"Mara."
"What's it called?"
"Holloway Strategic Projects."
Dana nodded once.
My hand was damp against the phone.
"What does it do?"
"Project consulting."
"Since when?"
"A couple years."
"And you've never mentioned it?"
"I have."
"Grant."
"Maybe I didn't."
His tone hardened for half a second.
Then softened again.
"Look, it never mattered."
"It matters now."
May you like
"I know."
A horn sounded on his end.
