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“Hey, it’s me.”
“I got that. Caller ID,” Peyton said. So far, our plan had worked out. Gray was planted at the bar making conversation with the staff as they wandered over. He was telling everyone I was in the bathroom if they asked. I was able to get into the office without anyone seeing me.
“I don’t know what I’m doing! I’m on the computer at the pub. What do I look for?”
“What are you trying to find?” Peyton asked.
“You were right. It’s an escort service. I thought maybe money laundering, but I was wrong.”
“You were actually right, too. Anyone can run an escort service, but they are laundering the money through the restaurant to make it legal. It’s hard to spend large amounts without a paper trail of its origins.”
“Cool. I need to figure out who Anya’s partner was.”
“Okay. Start opening files. We won’t know until we find it. Start searching for ‘special accounts’ or vendors you have never seen before,” Peyton said.
“Like a different bank account than the one the restaurant normally uses?” I asked.
“That would be too obvious,” Peyton said. “Since they are only supplying staff, we don’t need to match up food ordered versus actual food sold. That would be a basic way to launder money in a restaurant or bar.”
“If that’s obvious, then what is the unobvious I should be looking for?”
“For instance, if you owned a gym and Tupac was a member. He died years ago, so why is he still paying a membership fee?”
“I’m surprised you used Tupac. I expected someone more like Bob Vila,” I said. Peyton might’ve chosen to study numbers, but her main talent was building. She loved it. She could look at something and just innately understand how to assemble a similar structure.
“Bob Vila’s not dead.”
“My bad. How will finding weird invoices help me figure out who her partner is?”
“We’re shooting blind here. I’m just throwing out ideas of what to look for.”
My fingers flew over the keyboard opening as many files as I could find. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Focus, Regan. It’s late. How about this? Everyone has a subconscious number pattern. Mine involves fours and sevens. If I were to write out a list of different numbers, you would notice a repeat of me using fours and sevens. Look for repeating invoice or statement numbers.”
“How do you know this stuff? Do they teach ‘Money Laundering 101’ in accounting school?” I asked.
“No. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Then how do people know how to do it?”
“Regan, you always see the good. Never the bad. People who want to do bad things learn the right way of doing them and then find the loopholes,” Peyton said. She yawned before continuing. “Actually, all around this is a pretty slipshod setup. If they were smart, they’d have created fake invoices lowering the hourly wage of the girls. You wouldn’t have thought twice about it if the bartenders were sent for a hundred dollars an hour without tips.”
“You’re right. The numbers are what originally turned me on.” Ha, ha. I clicked on Anya’s private briefcase on the desktop. Lucky for me, it was not password protected. I found that ironic, considering what went on here under everyone’s noses. Inside was a folder for statements. All of the pub’s invoicing was done through a computer-generated program. We didn’t have a need for handmade invoices.
After clicking on several of the statements, I noticed a repeating invoice number on many of them. Invoice 31663. Peyton was right. I guess Anya’s lucky numbers were three and six.
“You’re right.” I explained the numbers I was seeing. As far as I could tell, at the end of each month, the “johns” would receive a statement of their charges. The statement itself wasn’t condemning. It showed the invoice number, date of need, and the charge. How funny if they were using those as tax write-offs. To the eye, they looked like nothing more than party charges from a restaurant.
The bottom showed the total charged for the month. Because of Peyton, I had noticed a recurring invoice number. It wasn’t on every statement but was on every statement that had more than ten orders per month.
“That makes sense. Someone was padding the bills. By using the recurring number, it was easier to add up what money was hers. Or his. Or theirs. She wouldn’t have paid herself out using payroll checks. Look for reimbursement checks. Something that is paid out on a semi-regular basis but may never be the same total. If Anya claimed it as a reimbursement, there would also not be any taxes taken out,” Peyton said.
“Wow. You are good at this. Is there something you are not telling me?” I joked. Peyton was always the troublemaker in our family. I never thought it would come in so handy, though.
“What are you seeing?”
“I don’t know yet. I need to scan through them and look for odd repeaters. I can do that without keeping you awake,” I said as I scrolled down the list.
“One more thing, Regan. I’ve been thinking about this. Whoever is actually behind this would be like you.”
“Like me? What does that mean?” I asked. I stopped clicking to listen.
“You like order, but you can handle chaos because you can make order out of it. You take charge. You take the bull by the horns, so to speak. This many girls would cause chaos, so who do you know that would be able to take charge of them?”
The last page showing on the screen was of previously issued checks. Anya paid herself roughly every two weeks for the overages. I scanned the list looking for another recurring name.
“Peyton. I gotta go! It was Seth!” I slammed down the phone.
“What was me, Regan?” Seth asked.
He stood in the doorway. Where Gray or Ben would look at ease, even in a dangerous situation, Seth looked like he was about to have an accident. He rubbed his palm up and down his pant leg.
“You and Anya were skimming money. She was overcharging the ‘johns,’ and you were splitting the money. Who got greedy? You or her?” I stood up to face him.
“She got greedy. She tried to blackmail the mayor. She wanted the big payout. She wanted out and didn’t care what happened to us afterward.” Anger clouded Seth’s face.
“You here to kill me too? There’s still a pen left.” I motioned to the set on the desk. I didn’t feel nervous taunting him. After all, there was a full crowd in the restaurant and Gray was at the bar. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Seth’s face crinkled in confusion.
“I didn’t hurt her. I’m not going to hurt you, either, but you are going to come with me.” Seth pulled a small black object out of the back of his pants. A taser. Seth pushed a button and sparks flew between the two prongs. Fear snaked up my spine.
“You always were a pansy. You too scared to hit me over the head?” I asked. “Or are you not strong enough to carry me out unconscious?”.
I was very afraid of being tasered. It did not sound like a pleasant way to end my already very unpleasant week. I didn't think he’d actually do it, though. I wanted him to rise to my challenge. If he put the stun gun down, then I had a chance to overpower him. If he shocked me, I was a goner.
“I never was manly enough for you. You and Jax never gave anyone a chance. You were both blind to anyone showing any attention toward you, especially after Gray came along.”
There was never anything necessarily wrong with Seth, other than his size. I had always dated men that were big enough to make me feel like a woman. I wasn’t some dainty little flower. I needed a man who could carry me out of a burning building if I were unconscious. Seth just wasn’t tall enough for me. I knew it sounded snarky and shallow, and believe me, I was regretting that a bit right now, but that was what I liked.
“You pervert. You are going to actually enjoy it. Just go on then. Do it,” I said, waving my hand toward the stun gun, showing false bravado.
He did it. He actually did it.
Every muscle in my body clenched. Muscles I didn’t know I had clenched. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even yell out, as much as I wanted to and tried to, I couldn’t. I just wanted it to end. Each millisecond felt like a lifetime. If I could control any part of my body, I would kick myself for taunting him. My muscles finally relaxed but continued to sputter and twinge like an old car cooling down. Lightning shot down each and every nerve ending. I took a deep breath and concentrated on the pain ebbing away.
“I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”