First things first, though—it was time to finish her story. Then, perhaps the Guard could help her.
And keep her alive.
She gulped and tried to steady her hand as she raised the lemonade to her lips once more.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked.
After a sip, she nodded and placed the cup back on the table. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. Please, continue.”
Trixie took a moment to re-gather her thoughts and arrange them into a cohesive narrative. It all made senseto her. But sometimes, when she explained things, her style didn’t quite click with everyone else. “Well, I work in the company’s accounting office. That’s what I am—an accountant.” She puffed her chest out proudly. “CPA. Got my degree from Arizona State University! Did you know we’re in the Big 12 conference now? We used to be in the PAC 12, but moved a couple of years ago. Arizona came, too. And BYU, but I don’t think them and Utah were ever in the PAC 12. Well, maybe Utah was. They?—”
Jack smiled pleasantly. His tone was patient. “Honey, we love details. But maybe about the people who are after you. For now. Then we’ll talk sports if you want.” He winked.
Trixie giggled but felt a bit embarrassed.
There your mind goes again, Trixie. Wandering all over the place and taking your words with it…
“Sorry, Sir.”
“No need to be sorry, honey. We just want to make sure we get all the information we can so we can help you,” Jack stated.
“Yeah. I’ll try to keep on track.”
Both men just continued to smile, reassuring her with their eyes that she was just fine.
“Okay, as I was saying… actually… what was I saying?”
“You’re a certified public accountant,” Ace told her. “Working for that company in Vegas.”
“Yeah! And things were going well,” Trixie told them. “It was a nice company. Good benefits and all that. They seemed to appreciate my work. Even gave me bonuses several times a year. Until I started noticing some irregularities.”
Trixie watched as the two men exchanged glances and then looked back at her.
“Please go on,” Jack encouraged.
“Well, it was small stuff at first. Just a few discrepancies. Some unreconciled items and such. When I brought it to my supervisors’ attention, they thanked me and said they’d handle it. I trusted them and assumed they had.”
Ace locked eyes with her. “Did they ever provide proof that things were fixed?”
“Yeah. The account statements they gave me—and invoices, payouts, receipts—looked good at a glance. But the account balances never quite matched. Then,” she paused long enough to wince, “the discrepancies got bigger.” Trixie shifted in herseat and cleared her throat. “I found what we in the field callirregularities indicative of fraud.”
She hated even voicing it. It was a big thing to accuse one’s employer of such unethical practices. But she’d started to suspect financial fraud was the least of the shady things they were involved in, so…
As if reading her mind, Jack gave her a curt nod. “This is serious.”
Trixie nodded back.
“What are some examples you noticed?” Ace asked.
“Well, for starters, there were fictitious entries. Like, they claimed to buy X amount of goods—or services—from various vendors. But none of that stuff was reflected in the inventory or the work was never done.”
“Gotcha,” Ace said. “Could they have been doing that for additional business write-offs? Like they’re cheating on their taxes?”
“Uh, I don’t think so. You see, that’s just the thing: they pay their taxes. Often too much, always getting money back at the end of the year. I think they don’t want to draw the attention of the federal government.”
“So what are those irregularities about?” Jack wondered.
