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Heartward Page 15


  “Yes.” Abey got down and climbed onto the sofa. Tyler put on the program while Alan set out the files he had picked up and put the food away.

  “Where do we start? What in all this makes you suspicious?”

  “Well, if we’re going to find anything, I think we need to start with the money. Most of the bills for the department are paid by the town. Salaries and things like that. But equipment is bought by the fire company, so they have their own funds, and it’s those funds that I worry about. We can audit the books, but we don’t have direct control over them.”

  Tyler nodded. “So if there’s anything wrong, then it’s going to be there. Are there any discrepancies?”

  “Yes and no.” Alan flipped through the report. “The accounts always balance, but here, look at this. It struck me as strange. There’s a deposit here and an almost immediate withdrawal, like one was a mistake and the other an adjustment. The thing is, after all that, the accounts match perfectly with the receipts, but there is no justification for the original deposit or the withdrawal, other than a note saying it’s a correction.”

  “Maybe that’s what it is.”

  “Yeah. Except look….” Alan found the records from the previous year. “There’s another one of those here. One entry and an adjustment. This one is chalked up to a bank error, and this year’s to a deposit slip mistake.” He sat back. “Doesn’t that seem like too much of a coincidence?”

  “Maybe. But they could just be errors and nothing more. The overall account balances and there is no money missing, correct?” Tyler looked over the ledgers. “I’m not an expert, but there has to be backup documentation for each entry. Is anything missing?”

  “Not that I can tell.” Alan sighed. He had been over these books more than once. “I was sort of hoping that a fresh set of eyes might help.”

  Tyler sat back. “Why don’t we check the verification of each transaction and see if there’s anything that doesn’t look right. We should also see if there is anything that matches the adjustments. Maybe there’s a simple reason for it. Maybe something got counted twice. There has to be a basis for it—even a mistake has to start somewhere.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea, so Alan got out all the supporting documentation and organized it by transaction. Then he and Tyler went through everything.

  “Where do these funds come from?”

  “Mostly the fundraisers. The department does a number of them through the year. The biggest is the benevolence fund mailing that goes to everyone in town.” Alan dug through the papers. “All the responses and corresponding donations are logged in the file, and they match the major deposits.”

  Tyler looked over. “How do we know that these are real?” he asked, and Alan sat back. “What sort of jobs did you have in college? I worked at Target for a year in customer service, and one of the things we used to do were refund follow-ups. If there was a receipt or a credit card, it was no problem, but other kinds of refunds we would sometimes follow up on. Sometimes the response came back that they had no idea what we were talking about. Those were the theft returns using a fake name and address.” Tyler pushed the ledger back to him.

  “I don’t get it,” Alan said.

  “So, let’s say that my mom and dad made a donation, say two hundred bucks. But what if only one hundred made it into the account and the other hundred was skimmed and the paperwork altered?” Tyler peered through the list. “Maybe we could check to make sure that the records are correct somehow.”

  “How do we do that?” Alan asked, his mind spinning. This seemed like a long shot to him.

  “I don’t know, and maybe this whole thing is for nothing, but I have to agree with you. These entries that are so-called adjustments seem fishy, especially since they seem to be happening each year and aren’t for small amounts.” Tyler continued poring through the records, and Alan did the same, hoping for some sort of inspiration to strike.

  TYLER SAT back rubbing his eyes. They had gone over everything for more than two hours, with a few interruptions from Abey, and Alan’s head spun. He got up and put the pizza he’d gotten earlier in the oven, needing something to do. He then stood behind Tyler’s chair and gently massaged his shoulders. “Thank you for doing this, even if it is a wild goose chase.” Maybe he was all wrong and the chief was merely an ass. “You must really care about me if you’re willing to do this on your day off.”

  Tyler turned, smiling up at him, and tugged Alan down into a kiss. “I do care, and I’ll do whatever I can because it’s important to you. But I think—” Tyler sighed and didn’t finish his thought as Abey raced into the room.

  “Grampy here!” He bounced on his heels and then ran out of the room.

  Tyler groaned and followed him. “Close this stuff, and we might as well pack it away. My dad and the chief are friends. I don’t want to cause any trouble, not until we know something.” He opened the door, and Alan organized the papers and closed the record ledgers.

  “Mr. Banik,” Alan said, standing as Tyler’s dad came in.

  “I saw that someone was here and thought I’d stop in to see my grandson on my way to lunch.” He lifted Abey and swung him around. Abey made like an airplane with his arms.

  “Do you want some coffee?” Tyler offered. “There’s pizza in the oven. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “No, thanks. Since you were off today and Abey wasn’t in day care, I just wanted to say hello.” His words drew out as his attention shifted to the table. Alan realized that while he had closed everything, the ledgers were, of course, labeled.

  “I’m helping Alan with a project for the town,” Tyler said, but Mr. Banik wasn’t buying it for a second.

  “Really?” He set Abey on his feet. “Go watch Mouse and I’ll be in to say goodbye before I go.” Abey hurried away, and Mr. Banik sat down at the table. “You don’t have to tell me….” The warning tone clearly said that they had better.

  “Look, Dad. Some things don’t add up, and….”

  Mr. Banik folded his hands and motioned for them to have a seat. Like disobedient kids, they each sat. “It’s no secret that you and the chief are on opposite sides. But you….” He turned to Tyler. “The man is your boss, and you don’t need to make waves. It isn’t good for you or my grandson.”

  “Mr. Banik…,” Alan began, “we’re going over the department finances. This isn’t sedition, and we certainly aren’t making trouble.” Alan had to soothe him somehow.

  “Really.” Mr. Banik grabbed the donor list. “Isn’t this type of information private? I know I don’t want my neighbors knowing what I contributed. It’s personal and—”

  “Wait.” Tyler took back the file. “You and Mom weren’t on this list.” He quickly cast his gaze down and showed his father the appropriate page within the alphabetical list. “Take a look.”

  Mr. Banik scanned the list. “That’s not right. Your mother and I contribute every year.” He lifted his gaze. “Our son is a firefighter, and contributing is like supporting him,” he said to Alan as he pulled out his phone. “Dear, didn’t we make a donation to the fire department? … I thought so. … Okay, I’ll check.” He hung up. “Your mother says she mailed the check herself. She always does.”

  “Look at last year,” Alan said, and Tyler pulled out the list. “Is it there?”

  “No. You aren’t on last year’s list either.” Tyler handed it to his dad. “How does the request come in?”

  “We get a letter with an envelope inside. We fill out the form and put it and the check in the envelope, like the gas bill. It’s already addressed.”

  Tyler lifted his gaze. “We need to see those envelopes.”

  “We sent it in. It’s gone, and I suppose if people don’t want to make a donation, they throw them away.” Mr. Banik seemed confused.

  “Huh. And there’s the simplicity,” Tyler said.

  Alan wasn’t sure he was seeing what Tyler was. Mr. Banik wasn’t either, judging by his confused expression.

  “Think about
it. Just suppose that you wanted to skim some money from the fund. The easiest way is to print up envelopes with a different address, a different post office box. It wasn’t likely that anyone would notice. The checks and any cash donations would go to a different location, one, say, that the chief controls.”

  “Now see here…,” Mr. Banik objected.

  “Okay, Dad, that the fraudster controls. He removes the cash, but takes the checks that come in, deposits them into the department account with the others, and enters the difference as an adjustment because there was a ‘mistake.’ The books balance. The donations appear to be the right amount, and everything looks good. The only sign is the one entry from the bank, and it’s explained away.” Tyler leaned forward. “The thing is, it’s damned hard to prove unless we can find some of the envelopes with the wrong address.”

  “That’s brilliant,” Alan said, locking gazes with Tyler. Damn, the intensity in his dark eyes was enough to make him forget just about anything. “But we need the evidence, and we need to find out who is behind it. We have a theory, but nothing more at the moment.” Alan was excited, but he had to temper it with caution.

  “You don’t have anything. I mean, you have list and a story from me, but….”

  Tyler leaned on the table. “Dad. This could be bad, and I know you think the chief is a crony, but if what we think could possibly be true, then your friend has been stealing from you, the fire department, and everyone in town. We don’t know it’s him, but he’s the one who has the most access and controls these funds. Do you really think someone would be able to pull anything like this over on him from under his nose?” Tyler sighed. “I don’t think the chief is good for the department. He’s interested in keeping things the same and not moving forward. But that doesn’t make him a bad person, just someone I don’t agree with.” Tyler set the list of donors in front of his father. “But if we’re right, this makes him a criminal. And who knows how long this could have been going on. The town has been raising money for a new ladder truck for, what…?” Tyler turned to him.

  “Five years,” Alan answered. “If this is true, we could have had it two years ago and been raising money for our next equipment purchase.” His insides roiled at the thought.

  “We have to find out, Dad. You don’t need to do anything, but don’t stand in the way,” Tyler said.

  Mr. Banik nodded. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Well, we’ll know soon enough,” Tyler said. “Is there anything in the records about where donations are sent? Is there a PO box?”

  Alan went through the documentation and found the box paid for by the fund. “Number 301 here in town.”

  “Then all we need to do—”

  “Is try to find something that doesn’t exist,” Mr. Banik said, and stood. “But I will humor you. We always get two of those letters. Your mother gets one and I get one. I’ll see if hers is still there and bring it over if she has it. You know your mother keeps everything.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I know we sound like we’re a little crazy, but think about it. If our theory is true, then your donation is one of the ones that was stolen.” Tyler held his father’s gaze, and he blanched. Suddenly he didn’t seem quite as sure of himself as he was. “Just help us if you can, Dad, for the benefit of the town.”

  Mr. Banik nodded and left the room, said goodbye to Abey, and then left, the door closing roughly behind him.

  “How do we prove anything? Those letters went out three months ago. No one is going to have kept anything. Good or bad, right or wrong address, those letters and the envelopes will have either been trashed or sent back.” Alan slumped in his chair. “Maybe I’m full of shit.”

  “No,” Tyler said firmly. “Something is happening here.” He left the room and returned with his laptop. He opened it and spent a few minutes. “Okay. The address to donate to the benevolence fund is on the website, and it is indeed PO Box 301.” Tyler continued searching, and Alan went through the list of donors again. His own donation was on the list.

  “How do we figure out if we’re right?” Alan got the pizza out of the oven and set the pan on the top of the stove. Abey must have followed his nose, because he came right in. Tyler got Abey settled and then got plates, glasses, silverware, and napkins.

  “I’m not sure,” Tyler told him as he got a piece of pizza for Abey. “You need to wait a few minutes because it’s hot. Okay?”

  Abey nodded.

  “I’ll tell you when it’s okay.” Tyler got Abey a few grapes out of the refrigerator, probably to tide him over.

  “Me either. I could ask a few people to see if they still have their letters, but it’s a long shot.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Tyler agreed. “And I’m betting that they didn’t just send the wrong envelopes to just anyone. I bet there’s a list. My mom and dad are probably on it.” Tyler’s phone rang, and he checked it and answered. “Hey, Dad. … Yeah,” Tyler said. “Okay.” He grabbed a pen. “PO Box 307 instead of 301. Everything else is the same? … Okay. Hold on to it and don’t do anything else. Alan and I will discuss what to do.” Tyler flashed him a smile. “I’ll call Mom tonight and tell her that I love her and that I’m sorry if I ever told her she needed to throw more things out.” He continued smiling. “Yeah, Dad, I know. Also, if you could call the bank and get a copy of your cashed check, that should help us quite a bit. Thank you.” Tyler put down his phone and shook his head. “What do you know?”

  “How in the hell could we get this lucky?”

  Tyler shrugged. “I guess it’s all about knowing to look in the right place. Now we need to figure out who’s behind this, and that’s where we need to tread lightly.” Tyler checked Abey’s pizza and found it cool enough to eat. Abey dug in like he hadn’t eaten for days.

  “Good,” Abey pronounced as he picked off his pepperoni and handed then to Tyler, who seemed to be more than happy to add them to his pizza.

  “Is there a way to find out who owns that PO box? I suppose we would have to contact the police.”

  Alan smiled. “Mail fraud. This is using the post office to defraud people. I mean, the police might be able to help us, but… boy, this is going to be tricky. I’d like to be able to bring this to a head and not have our names attached to it. But how do I do that? It isn’t going to be hard for someone to figure out where the data came from.” Alan took a bite of pizza and set the rest back on the plate. “We need to think how to handle this.”

  “We could call Andrew Marks and turn this whole thing over to him as a tipoff. He could investigate and come to his own conclusion. It doesn’t have to be the two of us acting like Sherlock Holmes. Either that or we turn it over to the newspaper in Ludington and let them look into it, but I have about as much confidence in them as I do a wet paper bag to hold ten pounds of apples.” Tyler wiped Abey’s mouth as he finished his piece of pizza and was reaching for another. Tyler cut him half a piece and took a second for himself.

  “The police are probably best. We’ll get the stuff from your dad and turn the whole thing over to Officer Marks. He can go from there.” Alan was going to have to let that be enough for now. He wasn’t mean enough to need to see the chief’s face when he realized his goose was cooked.

  Alan finished his pizza, and Tyler got them each a beer because they deserved it. “I’ll make copies of the materials at the store tomorrow and return the books so nothing is out of place. Then when we have everything from your dad, I’ll call Officer Marks and lay it all out for him. We’ll do it at the store and ask him to stop in out of uniform. That way he’ll look like a customer.” Alan sighed. His suspicions had come to fruition and he hadn’t been all wet. “Thank you for your help.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Tyler said.

  “Are you kidding? You figured this whole thing out. It was your idea to look at things differently, and we found out that someone has been skimming donations. Now we just have to find out who it is. But we’re halfway there.” Alan took his plate to the sin
k and kissed Tyler on the way back. “Handsome and smart. How did I luck out?” He grinned, and Tyler tugged him down for another kiss.

  “Papa,” Abey called as though he were upset, and Alan pulled back only to find Abey handing Tyler his plate. “Mouse.” He slid down off his chair and hurried to the other room.

  “I better make sure the channel is right.” Tyler trailed his hand over Alan’s shoulder as he left the room.

  Alan grinned and took care of the rest of the dishes before following Tyler into the living room. “Do you want to do something this afternoon? It’s a gorgeous day and we could be outside having some fun. There’s the playground in Pere Marquette Park. I bet Abey would like to play on the monkey bars or maybe swing with his papa. There’s lots he could do.”

  Abey never looked away from the television, completely enthralled.

  My God, he’d probably been like that as a kid too. No wonder his mother had hated the television.

  ALAN AND Tyler stopped at the grocery store on their way home from the playground, and Alan bought some steaks and potatoes to grill. He also got some more grapes, because a certain munchkin really wanted them. Tyler grilled and Alan made a salad, while Abey made grapes, and they sat down to a feast that left them all stuffed.

  Abey went to bed early, and Tyler put on Jumanji, and they sat on the sofa together, in the darkness, laughing together at the antics and simply having a good time.

  “Why are you smiling like that?” Tyler asked.

  “Well….” Alan shrugged. “I guess I’m thinking about stuff. I’ve had boyfriends before, and I know you have too. But I’m trying to remember the last time things were special, just watching TV. I mean, before it was sex or making out… stuff like that.” He leaned closer. “Not that you don’t rev my engines to overdrive, but it’s nice to have someone just to do nothing with.” Alan chuckled. It was amazing to be happy just lazing.