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“Kenneth Mason is my man on the ground there. See him. He’ll know what to do.”
There was a long pause.
Finally, Tom responded, his tone slightly softer than before. “You’re right. You’re the boss on this one. And all three of us want to do a good job for the firm. Lyle and I will get started immediately. When do you want us to report back, Isabella?”
It felt good to finally have some of Tom’s respect, if only a little.
“If you find anything, anything at all, call me on my cell in case I’m not in the office. Otherwise, let’s talk again at 6pm, Chicago time.”
“That’ll be midnight in London. Are you sure, boss?” Lyle asked in a tone absent sarcasm.
Boss. I like the sound of that. Lyle seemed to have done a complete turnabout in regards to her. Tom would likely take a little bit longer but at least he wasn’t being a total asshole.
“Just one second, guys.” She muted the speaker again and looked at Clay and Jay. “I know we were supposed to have dinner at Gordon Ramsay’s but I want—”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” Clay said. “We can have the food delivered here. After what we learned at the warehouse today, all three of us want the same thing.”
Jay nodded. “To get to the bottom of this as fast as we can.”
“Thank you.” She unmuted the call. “Yes, Lyle. We’ll be working until the early morning. Talk to you soon.”
She, Clay and Jay worked for hours, going through every report they could find from the Spanish office. But they found nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, the records were completely clean. In her opinion, they were too clean. Like someone had set them up recently and backdated every file to fit the five-year timeline.
Clay was in another room on a call with Spain, trying to get answers. Jay was talking with Janice in her office, filling her in on what had happened at the warehouse with Alberto Gonzales.
Izzy starred at her laptop’s screen, frustrated beyond measure. She knew something was wrong with both Chicago and London, but the proof she needed didn’t seem to be anywhere in GWI’s system. Think, Izzy. What are you missing?
She closed her eyes, mentally running through the few facts they did know. Both warehouses had been opened within a month of each other five years ago. Coincidence? Unlikely. The inventory records were in order. Coming in and going out. Everything matched perfectly. Strange. There was no breakage or loss, which would’ve been expected in normal operations. But that wasn’t enough proof. And who was behind this? Alberto Gonzales? Clay and Jay’s uncle, Bill Moody, CEO of GWI? Both of them? Were there more?
The back of her neck tingled, which had always been a sign to her when she was getting close to the truth. Why had Moody put her in charge of this project over Tom and Lyle? She recalled how Moody had looked at her when her cell had rung during their meeting. She’d emptied out her purse on the table, looking for her glasses. He probably though
t I was a ditz.
She was bound and determined to prove him wrong. She grabbed a pen and paper and began writing down everything she could remember about the meeting in Dallas with him. Moody had been on the phone when she, Lyle, and Tom had arrived. What were his exact words to the other person on the phone?
“Get the shipment sitting at Tibury to its destination ASAP. Understand?”
Tibury? She ran a search on that through GWI’s systems. The port of Tibury was the principal shipping port of London that GWI moved their products through.
Moody had to be behind this.
Kenneth Mason. Moody had mentioned that Mason was his man on the ground in Tibury.
She quickly typed in Kenneth Mason’s name into GWI’s system. Mason was a senior lead in London for GWI. Mason worked for the Vice President of Special Projects, Paul Links. Links’s office was at GWI’s headquarters in Dallas and the man reported directly to Moody. How many people were involved in this conspiracy? Conspiracy? That’s exactly what this is.
Clay and Jay walked back into the conference room together.
“Dead end with Spain so far, sweetheart,” Clay told her. “But I’m still digging.”
“And Janice is up to speed.” Jay sat down next to her. “But she still can’t imagine how that much inventory could have been shipped into London without her knowledge. Truthfully, I can’t either.”
“Through Tibury, that’s how—under the guise of a GWI special project.” She took in a deep breath. How would they react to her accusing their uncle of embezzling?
“What, Izzy?” Clay locked his gaze with hers. “Whatever you’ve figured out you can tell us.”
Jay grabbed her hand. “You discovered something, didn’t you?”
She nodded. “But the rest of what I have to say may not be something you want to hear.”
