Page 42 of Property of Mongrel

I watch him scroll through the deposit that hit on Friday, as well as the credits from where she paid her bills before he looks at today, where the balance in both her checking and savings accounts were wiped out. He spins to his other computer and inputs something and I watch another screen pop up and code starts flying across faster than the eye can see. “What the fuck?” he murmurs, peering closer.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“I’m in the bank’s system and it appears that there were five other accounts this happened to this morning,” he replies. Turning to Addy, he asks, “Do you know someone named Kara?”

“She’s one of my coworkers, why?”

“Do all of y’all bank at the same place?” he probes.

“I think so since it’s the only bank in town. Hell, even the surrounding towns have my bank,” she retorts. “Again, why?”

“Because all of y’all’s money appears to have been siphoned by the same person,” he murmurs, his fingers moving once again on the keyboard.

“Who?” she asks. “Who in their warped fucking mind would think something like this would be appropriate?”

“Does the name Janice Higgins mean anything to you?”

“That bitch,” Addy seethes. Turning to me, she says, “She’s the one who overscheduled me and the others and she ended up getting fired. But how… how is what she’s done even possible?”

“Did she handle payroll?” Nerd asks.

“Yeah, but she was fired that same day,” Addy replies.

“If she suspected she was in danger of losing her job, she could’ve popped all of y’all’s financial information on a flash drive, then hit you afterward,” Nerd says. “But what she’s done is illegal as fuck. I just need to… there… I’ve flagged it for their security to find. Can you call your employer and let them know there’s been a problem? Maybe someone else has done the same thing. She’s definitely going to face jail time.”

“I think I’d rather strangle her,” Addy retorts, her tone seething. Her phone rings and I see ‘Mrs. Rockmartin’ on the caller ID. “Let me take this, it’s the owner of the clinic.”

She answers and all Nerd and I hear is, “Yes, ma’am, I’m looking at my account online now. Really? Do I need to give a statement or anything? I can come in and do that, or they can come here. I’m at the Triple R Ranch, ma’am. Why would she do such a thing? Well, if they want to know how I feel, I’m definitely willing to press charges. Okay, yes, that’s fine, I’ll let my boyfriend know they’re coming here. Thank you, Mrs. Rockmartin. Yes, I’ll see y’all tomorrow. Goodbye.”

I think I’ve got the gist, but I wait for her to slip her phone in her back pocket before I ask, “Well?”

“Seems that Janice wasn’t as smart as she thought she was because the clinic caught her trying to take money from their accounts due to some program the accountant has on it to prevent theft or something like that. When the accountant saw who was trying to do it, he remembered the five of us who were paid for the extra work we’d been doing, called Mrs. Rockmartin and she asked the therapists who are working today to check their accounts. Every single one of them, like Nerd already found, had their accounts hacked and money stolen. The police are coming here to get my statement, but it sounds like it might be a federal crime since it’s an FDIC-insured bank, so it’s likely the FBI will be getting involved. I hope it was worth it to her, because we’ll all get our money back and she’ll be up shit creek without a paddle.”

“I’ll let Rio know why law enforcement is gonna be at the gate,” Nerd says.

“Sorry, would it be easier for me to meet them at my place?” Addy asks.

“Not at all. I’m going to print off your past few statements, so they’ve got them, plus the page that shows what your direct deposit was on Friday,” Nerd replies. “Give me a second and y’all can take them and vamoose.”

I snicker since Nerd now prefers to be in his office and left to his own devices. “Thanks for your help, brother.”

Once the pages print, I hand them to Addy and say, “Let’s go see what we can do for Gretchen until the cops get here.”

“That works for me. Do you think Constance or Maria has any dough I can pound?” she asks, smirking at me. “I have some rage to work out. I know I’ll get my money back, it’s just the unmitigated gall of that bitch to do that to the five of us!”

“At least it’s not something that’ll have you chasing your tail for weeks on end,” I tell her as we walk out of Nerd’s office. “But never worry, because I’ll always have you.”

“And I appreciate that, Mongrel, I really do. Um, I’m sorry I lost my shit earlier.”

Instead of heading to the common room, I take her upstairs to my room and let her inside. Once the door is closed, I pull her into my arms and hug her. “Sweetheart, I think anyone would’ve done the same, even without the trauma you went through as a kid. Because of your childhood, it would definitely hit you differently.”

“I told you, I’m a hot mess,” she says, looking up at me. “I shower twice a day, every day. If I want a bath, I shower beforehand. I clean my house every day, even though it’s just me and it doesn’t get dirty. My clothes are organized by what they are, like capris, jeans, pants, shirts are separated by sleeve length and color, and my scrubs are the same way. Everything has a place in my house. My pantry has enough non-perishable food items for at least three months, the same with my meat in the chest freezer I have. I also regularly spend time canning fresh fruits and vegetables I get from the farmer’s market ‘just in case’, and I don’t waste anything, Mongrel.”

“So, you like your shit a certain way. Wanna see something?” I ask as I lead her to my closet. Opening the door, I flip the light switch so she can see how I have my stuff organized. “That side has my running shoes, with the ones I’m using now in front, moving back to the ones I use for knocking around. My motorcycle boots are the same, and my jeans are hung based on their color. This is something I can control, and I suspect it’s the same for you, Addy. You didn’t have money as a child, so as an adult, you make sure you always have it in a variety of places. Same with food. And because, according to you, your clothes were little more than rags, you take care of what you own now. There’s nothing wrong with that at all and it doesn’t make you a hot mess or weird or anything else you may have been told in the past. It makes you you, Addy. And I like every single thing about you.”

Fresh tears are falling down her face as I talk to her, so I pull her into my chest and hold her again. She feels right in my arms, and I know she’s where she belongs. “Like I said before, you’re a unicorn,” she murmurs.

Chuckling, I reply, “I’m just me, sweetheart. But I gotta warn you, down the road, when we decide to go from two to more, kids are a bit… messy.”