Page 27 of Two Gushers


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Tamara

That sleeping pill sure did help me fall fast asleep last night. It feels good to have a full night’s rest before more shit hits the fan. Shit hitting the fan, I better have a rental car brought here, since mine is in the shop now.

I’d like to slash the piece of shit that has my car in the shop. I call for a car as the thoughts continue to circle in my head. Getting dressed, my mind keeps asking the question: who is behind the ‘this’? Shaking my head, I try to shove it way far back in my brain. I’ll think about this later.

Hell, I never have a later.

The car is outside and a knock on the door confirms it. The driver gets into a different car after handing me the keys and getting a signature from me. I dip behind the steering wheel and rev the engine.

When I get to the office, I’m totally unprepared for what I see. My desk is an absolute mess and I always tidy it up before I leave. Who in the hell has the balls to go through my desk? A couple of other secretaries pass by and I ask “Do you guys know how my desk got this way?”

One just shakes her head and the other responds. “It’s been that way since I came in an hour ago.”

“Thanks,” I turn my attention back to my desk. Well, I’m right about one thing. More shit hit the fan.

More than I care for lately. Whoever says nothing can surprise them, should work in this office. Sighing heavily about the mess, I sit down to sort it out. Straightening the papers into neat piles, I notice that some came from the safe.

I turn towards the safe to find it’s open a crack, a key still in the lock. Mine is still on my keyring and only a couple of people have a key to this safe. Me and…

God damn it…to hell.

I set the pile of receipts and reports down on the desk, sorting the safe, which is also a mess. Whatever fucktard did this is going to pay for it with some broken hands. Isn’t that what happens to thieves in the bible? They get their hands broken?

It’s completely justifiable.

The mess in here means that someone’s looking for more money. Luckily, last night before I left, I had a feeling something was going to change last night, and that’s before I found my car. Putting the ledgers and checks in a different safe place, that only I know about, is a smart move on my part.

I pull all of the stuff out from the safe and reorder it, neatly. With a key in the lock and mine on my ring, that means someone close to the company is damaging the machinery and stealing the money.

After I get everything back into its proper place, I decide to do some digging around. I make sure no one is watching me, or even around, before I retrieve the ledgers and checks from my ‘safe.’ Coast is clear, allowing me to get to the items I had safely put away. I grab them and search them over. Seeing them all there, I walk back to my desk as I normally do.

I begin reconciling the accounts with the ledgers and my mouth drops open. Another check had been cashed! This time the amount is for fifty grand and made out to a guy that I didn’t know! This makes the total, that I know about, ninety grand.

I call the banker and wait for him to get on the line. “How can I help you today, Ms. Daniels?” he asks very politely. I think they’re paid to be nice.

“Hi there,” I get back to the account screen and find the check. “It seems that a check was cashed for fifty thousand dollars by a person who’s name I don’t recognize. Could you find out who this could be?”

“Certainly, just give me a moment here,” I hear fingers typing quickly over a keyboard. “Is it alright if I place you on hold for a minute while I investigate?”

“Absolutely,” the phone goes to elevator music while I wait for his return.

A minute or two later he returns to the line. “Ms. Daniels?”

“I’m here,” I say.

“Unfortunately, the new teller didn’t recognize the man. He did, however, have a valid ID and a signature that was verified,” says the banker.

“I know you have cameras installed, is there any way that you can verify the time stamp when this individual cashed the check?” I ask rather impatiently.

“That will take a day or two to run through the camera’s and match the time stamp in order to have a shot of the man,” he replies calmly.

“Okay, can you do that, please,” I sigh at the length of time it is going to take. “And let me know what you find out.”

“I will begin once we’re off the phone, Ms. Daniels,” he states. “Good-bye and enjoy the rest of your day.”

“Thanks,” I say as I slam my phone down. Good day? This isn’t a good day and I don’t enjoy it as I can’t see how it will get any better. At least not right now.

A new thought occurs to me, settling my boiling anger down to a simmer. Maybe it's one of the boss's friends that he’s trying to help. I take the printout of the check to my boss's office and place it on his desk in front of him.

“Know anything about this?” I have my hands on my hips tapping my foot.

He picks the paper up and examines its image. “What’s this?” he asks after a minute.

“It’s another cashed check, this time for fifty grand and made out to this man,” I point to the name on the front and then to the signature on the back. “I’m hoping you did this or that you know the man.”

He hands the printout back and shakes his head. “No, sorry dear. I don’t know anything about this.”

I leave my boss's office, heading back to my desk with one thought, is the boss stealing from the company?

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