Her wrist communicator buzzed.
The sound cut through the moment. Holly stepped back, startled, and looked at the display.
Mr. Binn.
The spell was broken. She turned away to take the call, pressing the earpiece into place.
When she looked back, Rasker was gone. The lounge door swung gently on its hinges. The space where he had stood was empty. Only the scent of baked muffins and the ghost of his presence remained.
Holly sighed and answered the call.
“Thank you for calling me back, Mr. Binn.”
Eighteen
Holly pressed the earpiece deeper into her ear. “Thank you for calling me back, Mr. Binn.”
“My apologies for the delay, Ms. Greene-Moone.” The lawyer’s voice was crisp but carried an undercurrent of something that might have been frustration. “I wanted to be thorough before I responded to your inquiry.”
Holly leaned against the kitchen counter. The scent of blueberry muffins was still warm in the air. “Did you have any luck finding any other accounts for Charles?”
After her group meeting with the residents, she’d done as she’d said and sent a message to Mr. Binn about the possible missing currency units. First, however, she’d done some math. Many things had not added up.
“I spent the better part of two days combing through every financial record connected to Charles Moone and Moone’s Landing.” He paused. “I’m afraid I cannot locate any additional accounts beyond the one you already have access to.”
Holly’s heart sank. She had hoped, perhaps foolishly, that the missing funds would turn up in some forgotten corner of the galactic banking system. “So, thenitsare just…gone?”
“It would appear so. Your calculations are correct, however. The amount of standard currency units Charles accumulated, based on the station’s income over the years, does not remotely match what was in his possession at the time of his death. And there are no expenses on record that explain the discrepancy.”
Holly rubbed her forehead. “Was there anyone else Charles was close to? Someone who might have hiddennitsfor him? Or with him?”
Mr. Binn was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was measured. “Ms. Greene-Moone, in all my dealings with your grandfather, I never heard of anyone he could be described as close to. He was a solitary man. Deeply so.”
That tracked with everything Holly had learned about Charles Moone. A man who had pushed away his wife, ignored his daughter, and made unusual demands of his heirs in his will. Not exactly the type to have trusted confidants.
“Do you think he hid thenitssomewhere?” she asked. “Or could they have been stolen?”
“If he had a secret account, I would have found it,” Mr. Binn admitted. “The encrypted system of our currency units makes them all but impossible to steal. I did, nevertheless, explore that possibility, too.”
Holly’s chest tightened. “And?”
“No transfer ofnitshas been recorded that raised even the slightest concern. Moone’s Landing has been operating strictly on the up-and-up.” Mr. Binn sighed. “As you know,nitsexist in digital form only and are almost always linked to an account, unless they are uploaded into a chip. This action makes sense when one is, say, on the run, or moving to a new system, neither of which Charles was planning to do. Charles was secretive about many things. Have you found any currency chips among his possessions?”
Currency chips were small, typically a module that could be popped in and out of accessories that were designed to hold them. Holly wore her currency chip in her wrist comm and itwasconnected to her account. There were many wearable items that accommodated currency chips, like necklaces or broaches, and some had theirs embedded in their bodies—usually a hand or wrist.Thathad gone out of fashion about fifty years earlier, thankfully.
“I haven’t.” Holly’s fingers rubbed circles into her temples. “Mr. Binn, I need more funding to repair this station,” she said. “The list of problems that need attention is longer than my arm.”
“I understand.” Mr. Binn’s tone softened, just slightly. “Perhaps it will take more time than expected to bring the outpost up to standard. These things rarely happen as quickly as we hope.”
More time.
“Thank you for looking into it,” Holly said. “I appreciate your efforts.”
“Of course. I will continue to investigate on my end. If anything surfaces, you will be the first to know.”
The call ended and Holly removed the earpiece from her ear. She stood alone in the lounge, surrounded by the lingering scent of baked muffins and the weight of impossible math.
She began to clean.
