“I should first let you know I have a personal connection to the home. My wife and I adopted two amazing boys who were being housed there. They’ve brought so much to our lives, and I was so impressed with the home and director that I created a foundation to help fund them. Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to raise enough money to allow New Tide to become their sole support.”
“And you serve as the chairman of New Tide’s board.”
He gave one crisp nod. “My role is to provide operational guidance to the director and ensure there’s enough money in the bank to keep the home running with a quality program for these children.”
“Basically, you tell the director what to do so their place can get money from you,” Gabe said, obviously forgetting the Mr. Nice Guy routine he’d promised to follow.
Trent fired a sharp look at Gabe before he cleared it, but in that moment, El could see him as a murderer. Or maybe she wanted him to be one, because it meant they were moving forward.
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say they have to earn their money, but the board does have certain expectations that need to be followed. I enforce those expectations.”
El cleared her throat to draw Trent’s attention from Gabe. “Tell us the procedure on how money is transferred to the home after the board approves the payment.”
“Very simple, really. I notify our accountant to issue payment. He cuts them a check, then walks it across the parking lot to their bookkeeper.”
“When you saynotify, how is that handled?” she asked, hoping there was a paper trail to follow the money.
“We’re not a big organization needing a lot of paperwork. I just make a simple phone call to Sloan. Patrick Sloan, our accountant. He handles the rest.”
“And I assume he also manages all of the money that comes in from your fundraisers.”
“Actually, no. Sound accounting practice dictates the person who receives the money should never disperse it. The money comes in to our donation processor, and she takes care of all the accounting entries and deposits the money. She’s also responsible for recurring donations and special gifts.”
“So you never touch the money, incoming or outgoing?”
“I do not,” he said very clearly, as if he wanted her to take note of it. “Don’t tell me you think our organization’s financial procedures have something to do with your investigation. If you do, I can assure you, we employ Generally Accepted Accounting Practices and have passed every audit we’ve ever had.”
“I see,” El said. “When were your books last audited?”
“Less than two years ago.”
Same answer as Sloan. Either they prepared for questions about their finances, or it was the truth. “Is the same true for Safe Harbor?”
He nodded. “And I’ll be glad to provide you with the auditor’s conclusions if that would be helpful.”
If he was so eager to help, a red flag didn’t immediately pop up, but obviously Kenna had found something in the books that got her killed. “Do you know a Kenna James?”
“Name sounds familiar,” he said without hesitation.
“She was a volunteer at Safe Harbor. Did admin duties.”
“Oh yes, Kenna. Sure, I knew of her. We communicated via email a few times, but I never worked with her.”
“I’m sorry to tell you she was murdered Friday night.”
He remained expressionless, but that didn’t mean anything. He didn’t have much sympathy because he really didn’t know Kenna, or he didn’t care enough about a lowly volunteer dying.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He curled his fingers in, buffed his nails on his jacket, then stared at them. “I guess you’re not safe from crime anywhere these days.”
El had to fight the anger mounting over his lack of concern or caring. “This wasn’t a random act.”
“Oh, wait.” A look of surprise flashed across his face now. Fake or real, she didn’t know as she believed he was a real chameleon and could summon up any expression any time he wanted. “You think this is connected to our finances somehow? No, that’s ridiculous.”
“What exactly was her role to the vendors, as a volunteer?” El continued.
“She input all of Safe Harbor’s invoices due into the computer so checks could be issued to the vendors.” He sat forward, his gaze fixed on El. “Don’t tell me she was doing something wrong over there? If she was, no one ever suspected a thing.”
Of course he tried to blame Kenna’s own murder on her.
