Chapter 10

 

“So, the next thing I knew we were inside,” Gracie said, holding her hand over her heart. “There I was—a burglar. I kept picturing charges of breaking and entering.”

“Geez, it’s not as if you haven’t done it before—you and Sandy.” Amber delivered the comment with a grin.

“We didn’t break—we only entered,” Sandy reminded.

“What a weenie.” Amber rolled her eyes as she gathered the pages coming out of her printer.

Gracie sent a pleading look toward Penelope. “I’m not a weenie. Tell them! Tell them about my on-the-job injury.”

Pen looked around the tiny apartment, taking in the whole group. “I’ve been thinking about that, about the danger we’re occasionally putting ourselves in. Maybe we should look into self-defense classes.”

“Can we get guns and carry-permits?” Amber’s eyes gleamed.

“No … I think that would be taking it a bit far,” Pen said. “Still, it couldn’t hurt to know some, shall we say, moves.”

Sandy seemed thoughtful. “Let me check with Mary. I think she used to take classes at the gym, and she’s working there now. Did I tell you?”

Startled expressions all around.

“I talked to her this morning. Her old instructor hired her right away. For now, she’s just helping out, cleaning up and laundering the towels and such. But she really sounded happy. She’s finally doing something she enjoys and not thinking about Clint all the time.” Sandy was genuinely glad her friend had found a niche. “Okay, much as we’d love to hear about the scary parts of your visit to Holbrook Plumbing, what we really need to know is what you found there.”

Amber spoke up once more. “First off, there was nothing in the files we found to verify the banking activity I’d located online.”

“Not surprising,” Sandy said. “I would imagine he’s keeping all that secret cash hidden very well.”

“Right. We found and photocopied financial statements. That’s another thing—the location we, um, visited … it seems to be strictly limited to Holbrook Plumbing’s business transactions. There was no obvious reference to his contracting jobs.”

Gracie piped up: “He had a private office though. The layout of the place included a showroom at the front, a conference room with a drawing table for blueprints and such, then there were separate offices for a secretary or bookkeeper and one for himself. That one was locked.” She chuckled. “But the lock didn’t stop Amber.”

Amber took a mock bow, obviously a little bit proud of her contribution.

“So, once we were inside Clint’s private office, I used my handy-dandy thumb drive to copy a bunch of stuff off his computer. I haven’t had time to go through all of it yet. There seem to be several corporations and I’m not sure how they’re related. Sandy and Pen—you guys might be able to figure it out easier.”

“I’d be happy to give it a look,” Sandy said.

“Benton might lend a hand, too,” Pen added, “although I’m trying not to pull him too deeply into this. The more he knows, the more obligated he’ll feel to report Clint’s maneuvers to the authorities. For now, we definitely don’t want the law peeking around. We need evidence, which will get Mary a new hearing, not something that will let the Feds come in and confiscate Clint’s assets.”

Heads nodded all around. The thumb drive was passed over to Sandy.

“Next item of business goes to you, Pen. Were you able to learn anything about Clint’s dealings by chatting with the golfing buddies at the club?”

Pen sat a little straighter on Amber’s futon. “I must say, I did have a lovely lunch at the club. Benton readily agreed to take me there and even provided introductions to Roy McDonald and Stanley Piccard. The other name Mary gave—Joseph Rose—he wasn’t about.”

“How did you approach the subject with them?”

“Oh, I made it sound as if I’d known Clint Holbrook many years ago from a kitchen remodeling job, and I’d heard he had divorced—sadly, because I’d enjoyed working with his wife on the planning and cost estimates for my job. When I mentioned his remarriage, you should have see the eyebrow-wiggles from the two men. Apparently, Kaycie Marlow Holbrook is every bit as fetching in person as she is on television.”

She shifted in her seat again—she would avoid the saggy futon on future visits. “I moved the subject to the rumor I’d heard that Clint had greatly expanded his business, dropping the hint that one of the charitable boards I sit on has raised a great deal of funds for a new concert hall and we’ve been wondering which contractors we might want to solicit bids from. Perhaps Mr. Holbrook’s company would be interested, I suggested.”

“Any nibbles?”

“Roy McDonald was clueless. He went off on a tangent about where the concert hall would be located. I had to steer him away from what would have become a full hour’s discussion. Stanley Piccard picked up my hint and told me he felt certain Holbrook Construction would be interested in bidding, making it sound as if Clint was a great admirer and supporter of the arts.” She made a little face. “He did give me Clint’s personal cell phone number, which is something even Mary did not have.”

“Good job,” Gracie said.

“Mr. Piccard did say Clint apparently won a sizable bid recently, but he didn’t know the details. Seems Clint is being rather mysterious about the whole thing.”

“There have to be records. Huge construction projects don’t happen without a lot of paperwork and communications going back and forth,” Sandy said.

“The thumb drive,” Amber suggested. “It’s gotta have something of value. I mean, surely he’s not keeping all of it at home.”

Sandy hoped the thumb drive would provide the key. Breaking their way into the penthouse suite of offices downtown or the gated condominium at Vandergrift Towers would not be nearly as easy as their first foray into crime.