Mindy rolled her eyes. “I’m a ghost. It’s not like I can announce myself.”
“Yeah, you can,” my dog huffed. “It’s called poltergeist activity.”
Mindy’s eyes started glowing.
I nudged Bo hastily toward Gavin’s desk.
The dragon newt didn’t notice our approach.
“Er, Gavin?” I asked carefully, in case I startled him and he accidentally set fire to something. “Are you okay?”
The dragon newt looked up from his computer. His horns and tail were out and his face had the glazed, feverish look of a guy who’d been staring at numbers for too long. I recognized the expression. I’d worn it myself during tax season at Pennington & Graves.
“Not really,” he mumbled. He rubbed his eyes. “I think I might have overdosed on caffeine.”
Bo lifted a paw. “How many toe beans do you see?”
Gavin squinted. “Too many.”
I glanced at the mess surrounding the dragon newt. “What’s this about?”
Gavin’s tail twitched agitatedly. “I found something in the Lincoln sisters’ financial records when I was about to leave yesterday. And then I found something else. And, well—” He gestured helplessly at the landscape of paper surrounding him. “It just kept going.” He swallowed. “It’s not just the Lincoln sisters’ accounts. I spotted irregularities elsewhere.”
My pulse quickened.
The elevator doors opened before I could say another word.
Didi appeared, worry lines already marring her brow. She stopped in her tracks when she saw us.
“You’re early.”
I indicated Gavin. “He never left.”
Didi blinked.
“I think we should get Samuel,” I said.
Ten minutes later, the four of us were seated around the conference table with Gavin’s findings spread across the surface. Bo had claimed his usual spot by my chair and was eyeballing a spreadsheet like it had committed a crime. Samuel was at the head, his fingers laced in front of his mouth and his expression the one he wore when the firm’s business crossed the line into pack territory.
“Walk us through it,” my alpha said in a hard voice.
Gavin took a steadying breath. Smoke curled from his nostrils.
“I started with the Lincoln sisters’ primary accounts. Their clinic revenue, covencontributions, personal finances. Everything looked normal going back five years.” He pulled out a spreadsheet flagged with green tabs. “Consistent income. Regular expenses. The kind of clean books you’d expect from three experienced practitioners running a legitimate operation.”
“And then?” Didi prompted with a frown.
The witch poured herself a coffee that smelled like it could strip paint from her thermos. Gavin studied it like it was the Holy Grail before focusing on a second spreadsheet.
This one was covered in red tabs.
“Approximately fourteen months ago, somebody started tampering with the Lincoln sisters’ finances.” He swallowed. “Their clinic revenue was being quietly rerouted without their knowledge. Vendor payments were redirected. Small amounts at first, then larger ones. And the records were altered after the fact to cover it up.”
My accountant brain engaged before my wolf could.
“Show me,” I said, leaning forward.
Gavin slid the spreadsheet across the table. I studied it with narrowed eyes.
