The Visitor Continues

Yesterday (January 14, 2023), I shared chapter 13 of our prequel, The Visitor Misses a Visit. If you are already on my newsletter list, you should have received the remaining chapters today in your email (if not check your spam folder). Use my contact tab to notify me if you did NOT receive it and wish to.

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Chapter Thirteen – True Confessions from the Missing

As the tension builds, our heroine must find her backbone. Can she stand up to those who doubt her ability to lead? I hope you’re enjoying the story as much as I am. Just a reminder, there are more Connie Wright adventures to come.

Connie opened the door to her office and stepped aside to let Clint in. She started to shut it, and thought better of the action, leaving it halfway open.

“Where’s this plan you wanted to show me?” He eyed her mom’s bulletin board.

She gave it a once over. There was nothing there but thank you cards and a survey form from the grocery store. She snapped her finger at her side and smoothed her navy skirt. She pulled the survey from the board. “I thought a couple of my primary volunteers, the ones who establish our purchase orders, could make a list of items that are regularly purchased.”

“How is that supposed to help.” He didn’t bother to look at the form that she held out to him.

“Well, that way, you can either accept or reject the items on the list before anyone spends money on them. The purchaser can have a pretty good idea you will approve the purchase.” She sounded like an idiot, but at least she was keeping him out of his office.

Not that her brother would likely find anything on the computer in there. Not if what she’d just learned about the man was indeed true.

He clasped his hands together around the handle of his briefcase and eyed her with suspicion. “Exactly why am I here?”

She had a choice. She could continue with the charade and try to excuse herself out of the situation by pretending to be a dunderhead, or she could challenge him with some of her own questions. “If the donors aren’t giving very well, then why is it you decided on extra expenditures to fly out to meet with my uncle?”

“Wouldn’t you agree that some donors need a more personal touch.”

He made a point. “But that shouldn’t require an expensive hotel and a first-class seat on the flight.” He couldn’t very well talk his way out of that.

He set his case beside him and folded his arms over his chest. “Are you investigating me?”

Yes, actually. “As I said, I wasn’t sure where you were.” She wouldn’t throw her niece under the bus.

“Why didn’t you ask Hodges?”

“She had no idea where you were.” That was all beside the point anyway. “And it doesn’t explain why you would spend so much when you know the donors are no longer giving as much as they had been?”

“Where did you hear that donors are no longer giving?”

What was with all his questions? As she thought through it, he hadn’t given her a straight answer since they’d arrived at her office. “Are you saying that it’s not true?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“So, it is true?” Somehow, she needed to get an actual answer out of this guy.

“I didn’t say that either.”

That was it. She’d had it. “Mr. Rutherford, if you can’t or won’t answer my questions, then I’m not sure you need to continue working for the foundation.”

“You don’t have the authority to fire me, Miss Wright. I don’t answer to you.”

Oh, this was infuriating. Whether this guy was guilty of something or not, she’d be talking to Dad. This type of attitude was not what she signed up for.

He picked up his case and moved to the door.

“Wait, why is it that we don’t have access to the bank accounts anymore?”

He turned and glared at her. “You have not been here. There has been no reason for you to have access to the accounts.”

“Well, I’m here now.”

“And you can take it up with your father.” He put his back to her again.

“He doesn’t have access to the accounts either.” Not something the man could so easily wiggle out of.

He didn’t turn around but pushed through the open door.

She stopped him in the hallway as Mrs. Hodges came trotting toward them. “Why doesn’t Dad have access to the accounts anymore.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“I’m speaking to you.”

“And you should answer her.” Mrs. Hodges stepped close, blocking his way. Her normal smile was replaced by a pointed look that bordered on fierceness.

Once again, he set his briefcase down. His neck was flushed under the collar of his shirt. “Your father is in charge of his own accounts. If things are changed there, he did the changing. I was tasked with giving more security to the finances since there has been . . .” He paused, glanced at Mrs. Hodges, and took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Connie. “There have been some inconsistencies in the books. Some of the numbers aren’t adding up.”

Of course, that could simply be a difference of accounting or simple clerical errors if the numbers were low, but he seemed to insinuate otherwise. And if the 1.5 M did stand for money, then it was serious indeed.

Diana Carson rounded the corner and stopped short as the man continued.

“Because the issues have been happening for such a long time, I limited access to your father and mother and me. That way, I could be sure to at least stop the embezzlement even if I couldn’t find the person responsible.”

The word had finally been said aloud. It had such a dirty sound to it. Mrs. Hodges flinched when he said it. Surely, she couldn’t be involved.

“But I have a good idea who that person might be.” He turned to the older woman. “Right?”


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THE VISITOR MAKES A RETREAT

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Coming Soon

THE VISITOR MAKES A RETREAT by Julie B Cosgrove

February 10

THE VISITOR MEETS OLD HAIRY by Fay Lamb

March 10

THE VISITOR SEES A GHOST by Lill Kohler

April 14

THE VISITOR PLAYS A GAME by Shawna Robison Young

May 12

THE VISITOR KIDS AROUND by Dena Netherton

June 9

THE VISITOR HAS A BALL by Betty Thomason Owens

July 14

THE VISITOR CATCHES THE BOUQUET by Marji Laine

August 11

Chapter Twelve – Confirmation from Donors

I am on the edge of my seat. How about you? Connie Wright is not a quitter. Even when she’s told not to worry, she can’t set it aside. Something isn’t…well…right. The clues are piling up. What will happen next?

Once the pizza had arrived, Connie and Mrs. Hodges split up the donor list and began calling.

An hour into the phone calls, Connie began to see a pattern. “Thank you, Mr. Hardy. And I’ll be sure to pass along your greeting to my dad.” Connie smiled at the receiver even though the dear man wouldn’t see her appreciation.

Mrs. Hodges hung up the reception phone just as Connie set her cell phone down. “Well, so far, all of the donors that I’ve called seemed to still be giving.”

The older woman tapped the tip of a ballpoint pen on a notepad. “I don’t understand it. Your father told Diana specifically that one of the donors I called was no longer giving at all. She said he was rather heart-broken about it because he and Eleanor knew the woman personally, and she had supported the foundation from day one.. But on the phone, the woman didn’t indicate that she’d stopped giving or even reduced her donations.” She gave Connie a quizzical look. “In fact, she said she’d just put in a payment using the new process as instructed.”

“What new process?” The hairs on the back of Connie’s neck stood up.

“Well, I didn’t ask her. I didn’t want to alarm her, but I haven’t heard of any new process. Do you suppose it’s going into a new account?”

A chill scampered across her shoulders. Was that what was going on? She snapped her fingers and pointed at the sky like Mrs. Hodges always did. “That’s it.”

“You know what’s happening.”

“It isn’t that the donors aren’t giving anymore. It’s that their donations are being transferred to someone else.” Connie’s cell phone vibrated on the counter, and she picked it up as the ring began. “This is Connie Wright.”

“Addison here.”

“Have you learned anything?”

“Well, we couldn’t decipher the letter string that you sent, but the numbers were a different story.” Her nephew-in-law began to explain some long process, but Connie’s brain wasn’t completely wrapping around it. She bit her tongue, hoping to hear something she could make heads or tails out of.

“So, with a little perseverance, and probably a bit of conniving, my assistant was able to identify a couple of bank accounts in the Bahamas. He was actually able to look at the funds there. He couldn’t touch any of it, of course, but he found a couple hundred dollars between the two.”

It was probably a good thing that Connie hadn’t understood Addison’s process. She really didn’t want to know how his worker was able to ferret out that information. “There’s still nothing to say that Clint Rutherford has anything to do with it, though, is there?”

“I’m afraid not.”

She thanked Addison and hung up as Mrs. Hodges completed another call. “There’s another happy donor. Mr. Iverson is even planning to increase his giving next year.”

“Did he say anything about a new process?”

“I didn’t give him the chance. I told him that he might have heard about a new procedure for the gifts, but that we were sticking with the way we had been doing it all along. He was pleased that he didn’t have to change his direct payment.”

“Good.” She pointed at her phone. “Margaret’s son-in-law was looking into the data that I found on the notepad in Clint’s office. He connected the numbers with two different bank accounts in the Bahamas.”

Her eyes widened. “I bet that’s where the money went.”

No real proof of that, but Connie’s gut told her it was indeed a good bet.

Connie’s phone chimed, and she glanced at it. Gretchen. Connie pulled up the text.

CR – LT CHI RES. WKD @ DOBESON CPA.

Gretchen and her shorthand. Well, CR was likely Clint Rutherford. Light shy rez? CHI would be Chicago, Chi-town. And RES most likely meant resident. But LT?

Long-time! And Dobeson CPA had to have been the other freelancing job that he spoke of.

Wait a minute. The WKD bugged her. Works would be WKS in Gretchen text language. WKD is either weekend,which wouldn’t make any sense at all, not even in Gretchen-speak, or it would be worked. Past tense. But he’d talked about his other job as though it were current.

She opened her internet app and looked up the company, then clicked on the phone number to call it.

“Dobeson CPA. How may I help you?” The woman’s voice was on the perky side of professional.

“I’d like to speak with Clint Rutherford, please.” The man had been with her brother Frank, but maybe he’d returned.

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Rutherford no longer works here.”

Connie started to thank the woman, but a thought entered her mind. She put on an elderly voice. “Well, I don’t understand. Mr. Rutherford has been working on my accounts for some time now. Where has he gone?”

“If you’ll give me your name, ma’am.”

Connie couldn’t exactly give her that. “I was supposed to contact him when I was ready for him to go through a new audit. How can I reach him?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Well, surely you have some way to reach the man.” Connie pressed. “He couldn’t have just fallen off the face of the earth.”

“We haven’t been able to reach him.”

“For how long?”

“If I can have your name, ma’am, I’ll have one of our other agents contact you—”

“No, no. I want to at least speak to the man before I decide to hand over my business to someone else. How long has he been out of communication with you?”

“Oh, it’s been at least a couple of months, ma’am. We really have no way to contact him. He had no family or even an emergency contact. But we do have some wonderful agents here who can help you.”

“Well, thank you. I’ll think about it and let you know.” Connie set her receiver back in its cradle. She stared at the desktop. Clint Rutherford hadn’t been working at his job for months. And he’d only been at the foundation for a few months. Did the times coincide?

Before she could contemplate that question, Clint Rutherford came in through the front door.

***

Connie glanced at Mrs. Hodges. “We need to keep him out of his office.” There was no telling what state the office was in. They needed to give Paul as much time as possible to complete his investigation.

“Mr. Rutherford.” Connie stepped into his path as he began to veer toward the volunteer wing.

“Clint, please.” He gave her smile right out of a Disney movie. “How are you settling in, Connie?”

She hadn’t invited him to use her first name, but that was an old-fashioned thought. “Well enough. Thank you.” She held out her hand toward the executive hallway. “I have a couple of things I’d like to ask you about.”

“Certainly, let me drop my case off.” He sidestepped toward his hallway, but she tucked her hand around his arm.

“It won’t take but a second. I have an idea about the reimbursement that I’d like to show you on my board.” Why had she said that? Her board was a smorgasbord of Mama’s notes and cards. Nothing business about it. She’d have to come up with something.

“Well, all right.” He curled his arm up and squeezed her hand against his side, drawing her much closer than she wanted to be.

“So, you have been traveling?” She gave him a sidelong glance and fell into step beside him.

“Yes, I went down to meet with Frank Wright. I guess that would be your brother. Seems strange since he’s so much older.”

Funny that he would be so candid. She halfway thought he’d try to hide where he’d been since he hadn’t bothered to tell anyone that he was leaving. “Mrs. Hodges was a little worried about you.”

He tilted his head. “That’s odd.”

“How so?”

“Mrs. Hodges knew where I was. And I was able to speak to a number of potential donors who are interested in investing in the Our Kids charity.”

He went into detail, but Connie hung on the revelation. Mrs. Hodges had known all along where he was? Why had she made it seem like she didn’t know?

The man paused, apparently concluding his monologue about the charity.

“That sounds very promising.” She held her breath. Hopefully, that would be a reasonable response.

“I thought so.”

Good. She reached her door and unlocked it. “How were you able to get off from your job for so long.” That should be an innocent enough question.

“Tennyson & Carstairs are quite liberal in their time off.”

Wait a minute. Not Dobeson? That explained a lot. “How long have you worked for Tennyson & Carstairs?”

“Only a few months, surprisingly enough. They lured me away from my former company and have made good on every promise. Including my time off.”

That fit in with what she’d learned about him. Could she have been wrong about him?


Don’t miss the ending of our little mystery with all its twists and turns!

Come back tomorrow for my final posting!

Chapter Eleven – Assistance from Sib #7

by Shawna Robison Young

Pizza and coffee? Not sure about that combination, but Paul Wright seems to like it. Chapter eleven introduces Connie’s closest brother, Paul. Will he answer her call? Read on to find out. Maybe glean a few good clues along the way…

Paul Wright stepped out of his police cruiser and headed toward his front door where his wife and little girl waited. The rising, morning sun peeked through the trees and momentarily blinded him.

“Hey guys. Why are you up so early?” He stepped onto the porch and leaned in to give his wife a kiss.

Maggie returned it. “You know the early bird gets the worm.” Smiling, she nodded towards their daughter who always rose before the sun no matter how late they put her to bed.

Little Teagan wrapped her arms around his legs. “Daddy, I just gotta see you every morning before you go to sleep. How was your beat? Did you serve and protect?”

“Always.” Paul lifted his daughter into his arms and tapped her nose. He loved it when she used police terminology. It reminded him how much she listened and watched him. “Were you a good girl last night? Did you help, mommy?”

Teagan nodded. “I washed the dishes.”

“Good girl.” He placed her on the ground and spun her around by her fingertips.

“Connie called last night.” Maggie’s voice and eyes held worry.

Paul let go of Teagan’s hand. “Is she okay?”

“Your sister fears that something fishy is going on at the foundation. They’re having some financial trouble, apparently. Her and your father’s account accesses are inactive, and passwords aren’t working either. It does all sound a little sketchy. Your parents are out of town. Your other siblings have all weighed in, but she’s beginning to wonder if there’s something criminal going on. I didn’t want to bother you at work, but I think something might be up. Connie reached out to your brothers and sisters. That, in itself, proves that she really believes something bad is going down.”

Maggie was right. Connie needed him, and he would be there for her. He had the next couple of days off. He looked down at his watch. A five-hour drive would get him to Chicago around noon. So what if he’d been up all night working a twelve-hour shift?

Nothing a little coffee wouldn’t fix. He’d get some shut eye later after helping his baby sister.

“I already made you a breakfast sandwich and a thermos full of black coffee.” Maggie raised an eyebrow. “You are planning to go to her, right? Not just call?”

He kissed his wife’s cheek. “Ah, you know me so well.”

She squeezed his hand. “Best husband, dad, and brother on the planet. Connie is lucky to have you. We all are.”

He gave her another kiss. “I’m the lucky one.”

“You better head out soon. I’ll call Connie and tell her you are on the way.”

His sister had a wild imagination from time to time and tended to see a mystery when there was none to be found, but it wouldn’t hurt to do a little investigation work if it eased Connie’s mind. Besides, she had a good head on her shoulder. If she felt something was wrong, then she was more than likely right.

Five hours later, he pulled into the parking lot. The foundation building hadn’t changed much in five years since he’d visited last, and according to his parents even most of the volunteers remained the same too. It appeared nearly all of them were out to lunch now except for Mrs. Hodges who waved from her reception chair as he walked through the door.

Her smile spread across her wrinkled face. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Hello, Mrs. Hodges. Is Connie around?”

“She’s back in the volunteer accountant’s office. She’s been working herself to the bone trying to figure out why some of the donors are reportedly giving less than they pledged. It isn’t true of course, but I think she feels responsible for this situation. Thank goodness you’re here. You are her knight in shining armor.” She winked. “You know that, right.”

He nodded. He’d taken his role as big brother seriously since the day she’d been born.

“Sometimes I feel like the only one in the family who stands up for that girl.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it. She’s a gem and has worked so hard to achieve all she has at such a young age. I don’t know why they count her out.”

“Plight of being the baby of the family.” She gave him another wink and then answered the ringing phone.

Paul slipped into the volunteer wing of the building and quietly opened the door to the office. Connie sat in the chair, facing the bulletin board behind the desk, her back turned away from the door. He snuck in and wrapped his arms around her.

She swung around and smacked him. “Paul, don’t do that. You scared the bejabbers out of me.”

He patted the top of her head, the same way he always did. It was his affectionate and fun way of calling her short and him tall. “You were daydreaming about crimes and murders and such, I assume.” He raised an eyebrow at her. He loved teasing her.

She winked. “Not this time.” She tottered her head back and forth. “Well actually, maybe I was a little. I can’t shake the feeling that Clint—the new accountant . . . Have you met him?”

“No, but Dad raves about how amazing he is.”

Connie pointed toward him. “Exactly. I don’t think Dad is seeing the full picture. Our emails associated with our bank accounts and my foundation passwords aren’t working. And the donors are, reportedly, lowering their donations or stopping their payments altogether. According to Clint, but he’s out of town, lounging in a luxury hotel, so I can’t ask him any questions.”

She pulled the sticky note from her pocket that had been shaded to show several numbers and letters. “And why would Clint write 1.5 million? Is that how much he’s trying to steal from the foundation?”

“You really think the new accountant is taking money from the donors and the foundation?”

She continued talking, obviously unaware he’d asked her a question. “Of course, I guess anyone could have written that number down, but he’s the one most often working in here.”

Paul pointed to the note. “I see I’ve taught you well. You rubbed the imprint off onto this sticky note?”

“Yes, how else does one find evidence on a crook?” She flashed him a winning smile. “But seriously. I need something to prove Clint is up to something. I feel it in my bones. Something is off about him. Mama and Dad may not see it, but I do.”

Paul nodded. Once his sister had her suspicions she ran with it. That was for sure. “I believe you are on to something, but we need to look at all angles. Who else could possibly have both the access and ability to tap into the donors’ information? Or the know-how to change the passwords.” He pointed to the computer. “You mind if I take a look and see what I can dig up.”

She stood. “Please, do.”

He plopped into the chair. “Give me an hour or so.”

“Do you need anything from me?”

“How about a cup of coffee? Black.”

“And I’ll order us a Chicago-style deep-dish.”

He clapped his hands together once then pointed at her. “Best sister ever.”

Some time later, Paul wiped pizza sauce off the side of his mouth with the back of his hand then took another swig of his coffee. The scanning of the hard drive would have come faster if the volunteer computer wasn’t ancient and if he had access to the search programs at his station, but he was making some headway. Only a few files left on the drive.

A male voice along with Connie’s came from down the hall. Paul didn’t recognize the other voice. Perhaps the missing man had returned? He should go out and introduce himself.

He paused and straightened glancing up at the door. The voices seemed to get softer, like they were moving away.

Good. He really wanted to finish this.

He clicked on a file labeled W.F.D.L.B. Inside the file, folder upon folder filled the screen. Twenty-seven untitled folders in total, twenty-six of them empty. He clicked on the last unnamed file.

Inside of it a blank folder labeled B.B.T. held a Word document of names underlined with hyperlinks. Connie. Dad. Clint Rutherford. Anna Hodges. Diana Carson, the rest of the volunteers, along with people and companies he knew to be long-standing donors to the foundation and several he didn’t recognize. He slid his finger down the list.

Bahama Bank and Trust? Had they partnered with the Wright Foundation? They did have donors from all over the world. The folder was labeled B.B.T. Did that stand for Bahama Bank and Trust? He clicked on the hyperlink. It went to their website. Was this the account where the donors were directed to send their money?

He should ask Connie, but that could wait.

He clicked through several of the other hyperlinks. Each one pulled up email addresses, phone numbers, and addresses for the donor, volunteer, or company.

He finally reached Clint Rutherford’s name. Same as all the rest of the links—a breakdown of his contact information. Nothing suspicious. Except . . . a second page? With another hyperlink for something called, “goalscrbbt1.5m.” He clicked it and it took him to a yahoo email account password box.

Hmm. I wonder.

He entered the letters from the post-it note that Connie gave him. The email account opened.

Paul clapped his hands together once and pointed to the screen. Bingo. Everything he needed to prove Connie’s suspicions were correct glared at him from the screen. Something shady was going down at foundation.

“That-a-girl, baby sister. You are definitely, the right Wright for the job.”


What has Paul figured out?

Come back tomorrow for some revelations!

And watch for the coming

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Chapter Ten – Possibilities from Niece #1

Introducing Laura from Book 7 by Marji Laine

In today’s chapter, Marji Laine introduces her main character, Laura, from The Visitor Catches a Bouquet, along with a houseful of other family members. I know you’ll enjoy today’s installment.

Are you enjoying the story? If so, please consider sharing on social media. And don’t forget to come back tomorrow for Chapter eleven.

Laura Chastain sat poolside, watching her daughter Mackenzie’s lesson. She completed a full length of the pool then turned and bobbed her head with a proud grin.

Laura gave her a silent applause.

Her mother, in the lounge chair beside her pointed at Mackenzie and tsked. “The child is looking more and more like my baby sister.”

Mother was right. The grin so resembled Connie’s it was almost frightening.

Not that Connie was scary herself. At twenty four and more than ten years younger than Laura, the girl seemed little more than a child. And one for whom her mother, Connie’s oldest sister, had no patience or tolerance.

“I suppose she is affronted because we didn’t attend her graduation.” Mother sniffed.

Laura shrugged. Her mother needed Laura to be her confidant. It was why she and Addison had brought Little Mac and moved in with Mother. The beginning stages of dementia were early, but they were definitely there.

That didn’t mean Laura had to always agree with her opinions, though. “I haven’t heard from her, but with her new position in the foundation, she likely has little time right now to be worrying over affronts.”

Her mother blew out a puff between her lips. “Father should have his head examined to give such authority and responsibility to a mere child.”

“Mother, please.” Laura glanced around to be sure that Grandfather MacKenzie wasn’t nearby. “Connie has spent her entire life helping with the fundraising and the daily workings of the foundation.”

“As did we all. Peter, Frank, Polly, Eva Grace, Kimberly, Paul, and I helped Mother and Father. More, I dare say, than the baby. Everything was already established by the time she came into the picture.”

But Connie had stayed, whereas the others had found their own paths. However, she wouldn’t stir up that potion with Mother.

Her daughter’s lesson ended, and Laura stood as Grandmother Eleanor and Grandfather MacKenzie rounded the edge of the patio. “Was the meeting successful?” Laura had never had dealings with the foundation, but she enjoyed her grandparents’ visits when they came to support one of the local children’s charities.

“It was a nice party.” Grandmother nodded her head, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Maybe because she hadn’t been in charge for the first time.

“I know that look, Mother. What did Constance forget?”

“Oh, no. Connie didn’t have anything to do with this event. In fact, I deeply regret that I didn’t include her in the planning of it.”

“It turned out fine, Eleanor.” Grandfather took her hand in his own. “I think you’re right. Connie would have done a better job than the volunteer who had taken charge, but the donors still came through for us.”

“Then maybe Constance isn’t as needed as you believe.” Mother scowled up at her parents.

Laura hesitated. “You know, the breeze is lovely right now. Why don’t you take a walk?” Mother had put in a special footpath that circumnavigated the entire garden to the edge of the woods.

“That sounds like a treat.” Grandfather gave her a grin. “And you take Little Mac inside before she freezes. Her teeth are chattering.”

Laura picked up a thick towel as Mackenzie headed toward them.

Mother joined her parents on the edge of the patio. “Please have Wanda make up some light sandwiches.”

“I’ll do that.” Laura watched the trio make their way down the path. Mother looked more like a sister to Grandmother than her daughter. And from this vantage point, where her grandparents’ wrinkles didn’t show, Mother looked to be the older of the three. Of course, her solid white dye job didn’t help with that.

Laura ushered her daughter into the hallway and sent her up to her room.

“Sweetheart, can you come in here?” Her husband Addison stood in the doorway of his study, and then stepped back inside, closing the door behind them both.

“She’s here, Connie.”

Laura lowered herself to the cushion of the leather sofa and shut her eyes for a moment. Here came the guilt.

“I have the speaker turned on so she can hear the conversation as well.” He sat behind his desk.

Laura sighed and tried to put on a pleasant expression. “Is something the matter, Connie?” She had never been able to bring herself to call the girl Aunt Connie.

“Are Mama or Dad around?” Connie sounded unnaturally nervous over the line.

“No, they’re in the gardens with Mother.” Why would she care about that?

“I’m simply not sure what to do. If I should take any action at all.” The sound of shuffling followed her sisters voice with the squeak of the door. “I had hoped to speak to the man by now, but he’s been out of town. Oh, and please don’t tell Dad that I’m calling you.”

“No worries there.” Addison picked up a pen from a holder. “But you can’t keep this from your father if there really is something going on.”

What was going on? Clearly, she’d not come in at the beginning of the call.

“Oh, I plan to tell Dad all about it if there is, but he seems to really trust this man.”

“What man?” Laura finally spoke up.

“It’s a new accountant who is volunteering a couple of times a week. Dad has basically turned all the finances over to him.”

Addison stared toward the speaker on his desk. “I thought the foundation was pretty strong financially. I worked with MacKenzie myself a couple of years ago to be sure the investments were sound.”

“I don’t think there’s an issue with the investments,” Connie assured them. “The problem is with the regular accounts. Apparently some of our donors aren’t giving like they have been, but the person who has that information is currently traveling.”

“So, since this man has been in charge of the finances, problems have developed?” Laura had trouble believing that. Grandfather was always so careful with the foundation. This didn’t sound like him at all.

“I can’t say that it’s happened since he took over, but it sure seems to be an issue now. That’s why I’m looking into it.”

Addison turned to his home office computer. “Tell you what, why don’t you send me the things you’ve learned.”

“I can’t very well send you the sticky note.” Connie explained what she’d found when she shaded the note. “I don’t have one of those fancy phones that can take photos.”

“Sounds like you’re up to your old tricks, Madame Detective.” Laura couldn’t resist a little tease. Every visit during Connie’s childhood would end up with her sneaking around corners and hiding in cabinets to spy on her siblings.

Connie had the grace to chuckle. “I’d be willing to spy on him if he was here, but he’s not. And I’m having trouble getting answers. Especially about these odd numbers and letters on his notepad.”

“Fax it.” Addison told her. “Or just type in what you can read from it.”

“I can do that.” The sound of typing keys came through the speaker.

“And Connie, I’d like to take a look at the donor files.”

The typing halted. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

The donor files were top secret. Even Laura knew that with her limited knowledge of the business. “Did Grandfather give the new man access to the donor files?”

“I can’t tell, but my gut says yes. Clint’s been with Frank this week speaking to a number of financiers for one of the charities we expect to support soon.”

Addison tapped his fingertips lightly on his desk. “You have a reason for your concern. I think looking through the donor files is the next step if you can’t access the foundation’s accounts.”

“Wait, what? You can’t see the bank accounts, Connie?” This sure sounded fishier than she’d first thought.

“My password doesn’t work, and my email is no longer associated with the accounts. Neither is Dad’s”

Addison leaned forward. “Going to the donors themselves seems the only option. I can have some of my people contact them as representatives of the foundation.”

“I can’t let you talk with them. If the donors get wind that there’s a potential problem, they might very well pull out altogether.”

Smart thinking. Laura had to at least credit Connie with that one. Then Laura had an idea. “What if you simply called them to ask about their pledges. You can let them know that it’s for planning purposes. Do they intend to maintain their commitment for next year.”

Addison bobbed his head. “Surely they will accept that.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Laura.”

Business wasn’t really her thing, but it sure stroked her confidence to have her aunt’s approval.

“Tell you what, Addison. You work on deciphering the numbers and letters on the sticky note. I’m sending them to you now. I’ll contact the donors. That way, we can maintain the confidentiality.”

“I can understand that. And I’m happy we can help. I’ll watch for your email. Oh, and Connie, you need to have your father set a halt on the accounts until you get this matter sorted out. I can talk to him about it tonight. They aren’t leaving until tomorrow.”

Connie paused for a second.  “No. Please don’t mention any of this to him. I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

“Let us know if you have anything else you need. And I’ll get back with you soon about the code you found.”

“Thanks, guys. I so appreciate your wisdom in this.”

As the speaker went silent, Addison lifted an appreciative glance to his wife. “Pretty sharp cookie I married.” He came around the desk and kissed her temple.

She smiled up at him, but the situation Connie shared trouble her. “Do you think there’s really something wrong at the foundation?”

His brows furrowed. “I think your grandfather might have made the first mistake I’ve ever noticed. And it isn’t about bringing Connie into the family business.”

Laura gave him a squeeze around his waist. “Just don’t let Mother hear you say that.”

***

Connie hung up the phone on her desk. It was too late to do anything with the bank at this point, but she’d be sure to speak to someone tomorrow morning. She glanced up at the miniature of the family portrait that Mama kept on the shelf directly in front of her. She’d actually touched base with almost all of her siblings.

Well, except Margaret, but she had talked to her niece and Addison. That was close enough.

She still needed to touch base with Paul. Especially Paul, since his job as a policeman gave him a unique perspective over what she’d been able to piece together.

She dialed the number to the house and listened to the ringing several times before her sister-in-law’s greeting came over the phone.

“Hi Maggie, it’s Connie.”

“Well, hi, long-lost stranger. What’s it been a week? Ten days?”

“Ha ha.” The fact was, she and Paul spoke at least once a week, sometimes more often, so her sis-in-law’s ribbing had some foundation. “Is he there?”

“Nope, he’ll be home in the morning, though. Is something wrong?”

Connie gave her the lowdown on what she knew and the questions still unanswered. “If he can give me a call or something when he gets off, I’d really appreciate talking it through with him.”

“I’ll let him know.”

Connie hung up her phone and then packed up her laptop computer. Tomorrow, maybe she could untangle the matter enough to get some answers.

***

The next day offered a brief and uneventful trip to the bank. Connie’s name wasn’t on the accounts so she couldn’t see them, and she couldn’t put any sort of stoppage on them. Not without a court order.

Dad would have to do it if he could be persuaded. And that certainly wouldn’t happen with only her suspicions and suppositions to spur her imagination. But then the fact that Dad’s access to the accounts was also missing gave ample reason for her concern.

“Mrs. Hodges, would you assist me?” Connie pushed her desk chair across the tile floor to the reception desk.

“Well, of course, my dear. But if you need clerical work, Diana is due here this afternoon.”

“Not clerical work. I need to contact all of our donors.”

Her eyebrows ruffled. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve heard the story that some of the donors aren’t giving what they had pledged. The only way to really check that is to call and ask.”

Mrs. Hodges tilted her head. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Just to call and ask them? They might be insulted. Or worse, they might be afraid there is a problem here and decide to pull out altogether.”

“I know. So, I thought we’d call concerning planning purposes for next year. Asking if the pledge they made for this year would be roughly the same next year to help us plan our events and sponsored charities.”

“Oh.” She lifted her chin and let it drop in a slow nod. “Well, that’s different. It might not get all the information that you want, but it will give you a good idea of who’s continuing to give and perhaps insight into why a few have decreased their amounts.”

“Exactly what I thought. I have a few things to check, but I’ll meet you back here in an hour or so to start ringing up the donors if you’re game.”

And thankfully the dear woman was on board with her.


Come back tomorrow for Chapter Eleven!

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