Water's Edge (30 page)

“He’s already in New York and working from home.”

“Then I’d like to send him some documents only he will see.”

“Certainly.” There was a brief pause. “Give me your e-mail address, and I’ll send instructions to you.”

Tom gave her his contact information.

“The protocol for this account allows only Mr. Pelham to access it. Even I won’t see what you forward.”

After the call ended, Tom stuck his head in the reception area. “Where can I buy a scanner?”

Bernice thought for a moment. “If you plan on speeding, stay away from Highway 201. The curve near the Holcomb place is where the deputies like to hang out. The straight stretch beyond Elias’s house is as good as any to go fast. But if you still want a scanner, I think they sell them at Hobart’s Pawnshop.”

“Not a police scanner,” Tom said patiently. “I want to scan some documents and send them as an e-mail attachment.”

Bernice gave him a blank look for a second. “Oh. You might want to try Lee Office Supply, but I don’t know how to work one of those things.”

Fifteen minutes later Tom returned with an inexpensive scanner and set it up in his office. He scanned all the information about the designated trust account, then added the documents Owen Harrelson sent. He also included the notes from Harold Addington’s nightstand and the memo to John Crane that Tom found in the tackle box. Finally he composed a long e-mail outlining what had happened.

Before sending the e-mail, Tom waited fifteen minutes and read it again to make sure it said what he wanted and didn’t contain any typos or grammatical errors. There was something else he needed to do but couldn’t put his finger on what it might be. Then he did something he’d never done before. He closed his eyes and prayed that God would bless the e-mail. He said amen and pressed the Send button.

The rest of the afternoon he kept checking his computer for a response. Each time there was nothing. Bernice left the office, and Tom was about to follow her out the door when he looked one more time. A message from Arthur’s private e-mail popped up. Tom’s heart started pounding. He opened the e-mail.

Received. I’ll call you tomorrow morning at 10:00 a.m. to discuss. Can you videoconference a call?

Arthur

Arthur’s answer revealed nothing about the CEO’s opinion. Tom quickly wrote Arthur, then phoned Rose and read the e-mail to her.

“What time do you want me there?” she asked.

“Maybe ten or fifteen minutes early. I’ll send you a copy of the e-mail I sent him.”

“What about the camera?”

“You’ll stay out of sight.”

“Are you sure about this?”

Tom remembered his prayer time in Elias’s study. “Yes.”

______

The following morning Tom came out of his father’s office shortly before 10:00 a.m. and stood beside Bernice’s desk. While they talked, he kept checking his watch and straightening his tie.

“Are you expecting someone?” she asked.

Tom nodded.

“Not Rose Addington?” Bernice asked ominously.

“And here she is,” Tom replied as Rose opened the door.

Rose entered and greeted Bernice, who mumbled in reply.

“We’ll be in here for a while,” Tom said as he ushered Rose into the office. “No interruptions, please.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

Tom closed the door. His computer was on the desk with the relevant papers organized around it.

“I thought you could sit over there,” he said, pointing to a chair he’d moved close to one of the bookcases. “You can hear but not be seen.”

“I hope I don’t have to sneeze.”

“If that happens, I’ll be watching and make it look like I did it.”

“I’m not sure about this.” Rose shook her head. “It seems deceitful.”

Tom positioned himself in front of the computer’s miniature camera.

“You have a right to hear what Arthur has to say,” he said.

The signal for the videophone call came through. In a few seconds Tom was staring at Arthur’s face on the screen. Arthur was wearing a suit and tie, which made Tom glad he’d dressed for a formal business meeting. Arthur looked tense and tired.

“You kept me up most of the night,” Arthur began. “That was quite a bombshell you dropped on me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And I’ll ask the most important question first. Does Owen Harrelson know about the information you found in your father’s records?”

“No, sir.”

Even with the slightly fuzzy resolution on the screen, Tom could see Arthur relax. The older man sighed.

“I’d hoped to finish out my career without having to deal with a situation like this, but now that it’s here, I have no choice but to face it. Have you talked to anyone else about this?”

“Rose and Esther Addington are aware of the memos and notes from Harold Addington. Most of my conversations have been with Rose because she’s the executrix of the estate. I had to show her the information Harrelson sent in order to persuade her to sign the affidavit renouncing any claim to the money in the designated trust account.”

“Does she know we’re going to talk?”

Tom glanced at Rose in the corner of the room. “Yes.”

“I suppose that couldn’t be avoided. Has anyone else seen what you sent me?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Arthur ran his fingers across his white hair. “Is our conversation protected from further disclosure by the attorney-client privilege?”

“My role in this is as executor of my father’s estate, not as a lawyer, which means I can’t represent Pelham Financial’s interests in this matter.”

“But can I trust you as a friend of our family to keep it confidential?”

“Yes, sir.”

A door opened, and Arthur glanced over his shoulder. Tom couldn’t see who entered.

“I don’t care how important he says it is,” Arthur said. “Tell him to wait.”

The door closed. Arthur looked directly at Tom. “My concern is much greater than the amount of money in your father’s trust account. That larger fear is what kept me awake last night. If the information in your father’s records is correct, Owen, either acting alone or with others, may have embezzled a significant amount of money.”

“That’s the conclusion I reached.”

“And if that information becomes public knowledge, it will destroy the company. Ever since the Madoff scandal, public and governmental tolerance for any breach of fiduciary duty is nil. If Pelham Financial goes under, over a thousand people, including hundreds in Bethel, will lose their jobs. I’m not even going to mention what this would do to my family. But in a situation like this, personal interest has to take a backseat to the greater good.”

Tom’s respect for Arthur Pelham jumped a couple of notches up the ladder.

“As soon as I received your e-mail, I brought in one of the top men in our auditing department. He has no intraoffice connection with Owen and reports directly to me. He’s trying to determine how broad and deep the problem runs. My hope is that I can get to the bottom of this and take care of it without destroying the company or jeopardizing the money that clients have entrusted to us. If I have to make up losses personally, I’ll do it to the extent my resources will allow.”

“What about the fidelity bonds?”

“You know how those contracts are written. Smaller amounts are paid to keep a client’s business. Larger claims result in litigation over whether coverage exists at all with a view toward forcing a settlement for a fraction of the amount involved.”

Tom knew Arthur was right.

“When do you expect to receive a preliminary report from your auditor?” Tom asked.

“Later today. Of course, his investigation may continue to implicate Harold Addington. Nothing you sent exonerates him. Addington could have been manipulating your father as part of a broader scheme.”

“That thought crossed my mind,” Tom said, avoiding eye contact with Rose. “But if that’s true, it makes no sense that he would have told my father about illegal insider loans and bribery of bank regulators in Barbados. When are you going to talk to Harrelson? He’s scheduled to come to Bethel early next week for a court hearing to approve the release of the money in the designated trust account to Pelham. If it turns out he’s implicated in something illegal, that trip needs to be canceled.”

“I’m not going to discuss anything with anyone until the internal investigation is complete. I canceled an executive committee meeting set for this afternoon because I can’t stomach the possibility of being in the same room with Owen. If the scope of this problem is as broad as I fear, the next person Owen talks to will be wearing a badge.”

“Yes, sir.”

Arthur sighed. “You know, I left Bethel for Yale thinking I was sophisticated and smart enough to handle whatever life threw at me. Years of success reinforced my pride. Now, at a time when I was looking forward to slowing down a bit, something like this jumps up and threatens to destroy all I’ve worked so hard to build. The worst part is thinking about all the people who are going to be hurt if this can’t be handled privately and confidentially.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“I know. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done,” Arthur said with obvious sincerity. “I’ll be in touch. Let me know if anything else surfaces on your end.”

“Yes, sir.”

The screen went blank. Tom closed his computer.

“What did you think?” he asked Rose.

“He sounded sincere, almost broken. His concern for others was touching, but do you think he’ll have the courage to deal with a problem this large in an honest way regardless of the outcome?”

“If anyone can, Arthur will. You couldn’t see his face. He looked sad but resolute.”

“Is this the end for us? It seems the next steps are up to Mr. Pelham. There’s nothing for you to do if he assumes responsibility to deal with the problem.”

“True,” Tom said with a sense of relief. “I want to stop carrying this burden.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Rose moved toward the door.

“What are you going to tell your mother?” Tom asked.

“The gist of it with as few details as possible. We know Papa didn’t do anything wrong, but it stings to think others might have a different opinion. I won’t be telling her what Mr. Pelham mentioned on that point.”

“I agree. Thanks for coming.”

Tom walked around to the front of the desk and held the door open for Rose. Neither of them spoke in Bernice’s hearing.

“Did you have a fight?” Bernice asked as soon as the front door closed behind Rose.

“Is that a wish or a question?”

“Just curious. She seemed to be giving you the silent treatment.”

“No, we’re in perfect agreement.”

“Someday, will you tell me what’s going on between the two of you?”

“No, but I can tell you this part of it is over.”

Bernice shook her head. “I’ve heard that before.”

______

Tom spent the rest of the day working his way through the last box of his father’s files and following up with clients who’d been hard to reach. Bernice finished going through the financial records Tom found in Elias’s garage. Fortunately, there were no unpleasant surprises.

Late in the afternoon Tom phoned Lane Conner. The minister wasn’t available, but Tom left a voice mail thanking him for his advice and letting him know that he’d followed it. After he hung up the phone, Tom thought about Tiffany. If the situation at Pelham Financial deteriorated to the place where the company failed, taking Arthur and his millions with it, Tiffany’s glib confidence that she would walk away from her marriage a wealthy woman might prove unfounded. Government authorities and irate investors would sue Arthur and Rick, and no matter how many trees Rick harvested, he couldn’t support Tiffany and her horse habit by selling wood chips.

______

After supper Tom and Elias sat on the front porch as the last rays of the sun crept below the low hills in the distance. Rover’s bond with Elias had strengthened to the point that he preferred lying at the old man’s feet to being close to Tom. However, Tom wasn’t jealous. If the dog could bring the joy of canine companionship to Elias, it was a good thing. The difficult day would be when Tom left Bethel and took Rover with him to Atlanta. Tonight, separation wasn’t a topic of conversation. Instead, Tom told Elias about his meeting with Lane Conner. He left out the discussion about Harold Addington.

“I’m glad you went to see him,” Elias said when Tom finished. “After you told him what God has done in your life, did he ask you when you were going to get baptized?”

“No.” Tom turned his head in surprise.

“It would be a good thing to do it while you’re here. A heated baptismal pool in a church is fine, but the creek beside the Rocky River Church has a fine spot. It would be chilly this time of year, but you’re young enough to handle it. If you went swimming in the Ocoee, you can handle a dunking at the church.”

“It wasn’t a swim. I was wearing a wet suit after I fell out of a raft.”

“Lane would probably wear waders when he baptizes you,” Elias continued. “I know it’s old-fashioned to get baptized in a creek, but there’s something about flowing water that shows the symbolism of washing away sins in a powerful way.”

Tom couldn’t imagine himself wading into a creek wearing a flimsy white gown.

“I’m not sure I want to do that.”

“Pray about it. Did you know Nathan Caldwell was baptized in the creek near the old church on Polk Road? The church burned down years ago and wasn’t rebuilt, but that’s where his family went. He was about sixteen at the time.”

“I’ve never discussed baptism with Judge Caldwell.”

“You should.” Elias smiled. “And it would be a good idea to invite him to come when you get baptized. It’s important that people you know hear your testimony.”

“Testimony?”

“A short version of what you told Lane. You’ll be surprised how much bolder you’ll be about sharing your faith after you’ve spoken about it in public.” Elias paused. “Another person you should invite is Rick Pelham. You’ve been friends for so long it might have a big impact on him.”

Elias’s words about Rick pierced Tom’s heart in a sudden, unintended way. He was glad the darkening shadows hid the expression on his face. He got up from the chair and leaned against one of the supporting posts on the porch. Rick Pelham had never done anything to hurt Tom. He’d been a loyal, lifelong friend.