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Once Glen has answers about the Barron account, I will ask him to research Terrance’s problem next.
That said, I choose my next words wisely. Terrance has given me no reason to not trust him. Has never acted schemy. But what if he is the mastermind behind it all and this is him digging for details? Checking in to see if I noticed the change in the Barron account.
The twinge in my gut tells me to proceed with caution. To not open up and share.
“What do you mean they don’t add up?”
He takes a deep breath, then sits back, palms flat on the table. I watch for any tells, any possibility of deception as he speaks. “So, we aren’t required to check client accounts weekly or even monthly, but I do. I like to keep an eye out. Forewarn of possible loss before a stock nosedives.”
“That’s what makes you an awesome portfolio manager,” I praise him.
“Thanks.” A clipped smile dons his lips. “Since I do this, I know when changes hit. When I compared the recent figures to the last printout in their file, the numbers didn’t add up. The overall balance of the portfolio was the same, but one of the investments is off.”
“How much?”
A young man steps up to the table with two plates. “Pastrami on rye; side of potato salad.” Terrance holds up a hand. The young man deposits the plate on the table. “Means the ham and turkey with macaroni salad is yours.” I nod. “Anything else, gentlemen?” We both shake our heads and he walks back to the counter.
Once alone again, Terrance spears a potato. “Twenty grand.”
Had I taken a bite of lunch, I would have choked. “What the fuck,” I whisper-growl.
“Been staring at the figures all day and can’t make sense of it.”
We both dig into our meals, quiet and contemplative, as we try to make sense of what is happening. Two accounts. Thirty thousand unaccounted for.
As of now, I have no answers. But I will get them. No matter what. Glen will study the code, line by line, until he reveals the culprit. His services may cost a pretty penny, but eliminating the criminal is worth the price. And if I know Glen, he won’t back down until he unearths the truth.
“Is that why you have an outside techie looking at your computer?” Terrance asks, washing down his lunch with more tea. “Is one of your accounts off too?”
Say Terrance is full of shit. Say this is all a ruse to figure out if I am onto whatever heist is going down. What will he do if I say yes?
If Terrance is part of the scheme, will he urge Glen to dig deeper? Or will he get defensive and say the firm’s tech department should handle the issue?
Either way, I need answers. And I need to navigate this with the utmost discretion. The less who know, the better.
Before long, I will figure out who to trust. And who to put behind bars.
“Yep,” I say on a nod. “I trust him. And seeing as I don’t know who’s behind the problem, it’s better to have a trustworthy, outside source sort it out.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” He presses a napkin to his lips. “Mind if he checks my computer next?”
“No problem. When we get back, I’ll ask. Long as he’s not busy with work, he’ll more than likely help.”
Terrance’s entire frame sags. “Thanks, man. Last thing we need is clients thinking we’re embezzlers.” He sips his tea. “Didn’t spend years of my life and thousands of dollars on my education to be tossed in jail for false accusations.”
Felony embezzlement is not something the financial realm takes lightly. Years in prison and thousands in fines. All depends on the theft. Not to mention, you will never be trusted with money again. Ever. That charge would haunt anyone for life.
“Agreed.” I scoot back from the table, stash a tip beneath my cup, and rise to leave. “I’ll talk to Glen. For now, though”—I hold his stare, never more serious—“let’s keep this between us.”
Terrance nods. “Thanks for lunch, man. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
Chapter Thirteen
SKYLAR
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I throw on my blinker and pull onto the shoulder. After checking the mirrors for traffic, I ease out of the car and walk to the passenger side. Where I discover the rear tire, flat.
