Kip wasn’t sure how to handle this summation of her life. She tried to sound confident as she said, “I hope I’ve lived up to the expectations of the firm.”
Her lips twitched again—not quite a smile. “If you hadn’t you’d be gone.”
She felt herself flush again but said nothing. She’d only stated the obvious, but apparently making her feel stupid was the game they were playing.
After a moment, Sterling closed the file and leaned back in her chair. Long fingers tapped the folder idly. “I’m hiring you as a consultant.”
Kip kept her expression blank, as if her boss’s boss’s boss 7
gave her assignments every day. She straightened. “I don’t understand.”
“I want you to do for me what you did on the McMillan case. Woo’s report said that while he took the lead, you were the backbone of the investigation team. Reading the appraisal closely I can see that Woo’s been dragging his heels on your next promotion because he doesn’t want to lose you from his team.”
Kip took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The McMillan investigation had been a guarded, secret commission from the chairman of the board who had suspected that a top executive was embezzling. Discovering the embezzlement had been easy.
Figuring out how it was being done had been difficult. Finding where the money had gone and recovering it had been a grueling, nerve-wracking challenge. Ultimately, they’d recovered all but a fraction of the funds, then prepared the documentation for the eventual prosecution of the director of finance.
Kip said carefully, “You want me to investigate embezzlement at SFI? In secrecy and potentially involving one of your direct reports? And you can’t ask Woo or Daniels because the guilty party might notice?”
She nodded gravely. “I need you because you’re still a low profile. Someone is siphoning cash out of SFI bank accounts.
You can start with these.” She tossed a stack of papers in her direction.
Kip had examined thousands of bank reconciliations in her years with SFI and the Justice Department. Even in the digital age, bank statements were tick marked by real people for key balances, an essential check against error and fraud. She flipped through the pages and saw the telltale signs of alterations. It was a very good job, though. “How much is missing?”
“Half a million that I’ve discovered so far. I haven’t started looking where the real money is. Someone would notice if I did.”
Kip arched an eyebrow. “The trust accounts?”
She got a nod in response. “I was ambivalent about offering the service to clients from the beginning, and this was one of the reasons why.”
8
“We take every precaution,” Kip said. “Loss of a client’s money would be devastating. It would literally shatter our reputation.”
The look she got said she had just stated the obvious again.
Fighting down another flush, Kip changed direction. “I understand why you’re asking me. Whoever is doing this might be on the lookout for you or one of the top investigators. But they won’t be looking for someone like me. How do you know you can trust me?”
“Because of the Prudential case. If you were susceptible to bribery I think you would have taken the three hundred thousand they offered you. You have no offspring yearning to go to Ivy League schools. You’re driving a six-year-old car and you live in a very modest condo. No untoward debts, no unexplained riches.”
Sterling had clearly done a cursory background check. Kip tried not to resent the intrusion; it came with the territory. “The condo is modest, maybe, but it cost plenty. Seattle’s real estate was through the roof when I bought it.” Kip didn’t mention the cabin, which she’d been able to buy last year, using her savings and the bonus from the Big Blue case. Nobody knew about the cabin.
“I don’t know why you left the government and moved out of D.C., but if the Secret Service brought you in for full training, you must have been screened thoroughly. Though I can’t see you as one of those guys that runs alongside the limousine.” The gray gaze flicked down Kip’s body, then back to her face. It was an impersonal glance, but she knew what Sterling was thinking—
she was small for that kind of work. As often as she bemoaned her petite height she was thankful for it. People tended to underestimate small women, a bias she had used to her advantage more than once.
“My ultimate role was going to be advance fieldwork.
Investigating the financial status of potential hosts. I was also doing financial investigation of hosts.” She saw no reason to tell Sterling that she’d met all the physical requirements, including marksmanship. She wasn’t going to explain about the simulators either.
9
“Their loss was our gain.”
Though she found it quite fulfilling chasing white-collar criminals—and there had been so many of them the last several years—she still felt the sting of the failure to serve and protect.
As her father routinely sneered, she was the reincarnation of her grandfather.
“And you have no intention of telling me why you left.”
It was a statement of fact, so Kip said nothing. The last thing she would do was inform the head of the company why she had been allowed to resign from the Secret Service.
Sterling’s vexed sigh was brief, but heartfelt. “There are a few other conditions you should know about before you say yes.”
“And they are?”
“You’ll have to carry this in addition to your other duties.
Woo can’t know you’re working on something else. I want quick results. If this account is missing a half million, there might be more and whoever it is could be preparing to leave the country and we won’t recover a cent. I want the funds back.”
“I’ll do my best.” She said it with all sincerity and the quick nod said she was understood—they had made a pact. At SFI they took agreements very, very seriously. “My resources and investigative reach will be limited if I can’t have authorized access to certain kinds of files, however. It will take me longer than a team.”
“I understand. Even if all you can do is ETO, it will be a good start. If a senior officer is involved our fidelity bond won’t cover the losses, so I’m anxious to know if it’s any of them.”
Eliminating the Obvious was always the first and easiest step.
Kip nodded again.
“Thank you,” Sterling said quietly. “After this meeting we shouldn’t see each other at the office. If you need to talk to me, leave a message on my private voice mail.” She pushed a business card toward her.
“Of course.” As she tucked the card in her pocket, she noted the home address and private phone numbers written in standard SFI lettering script.
“I also have a lot of materials to give you. I thought I could 10
do this on my own, but I am traveling too much to do an effective job.”“How can I get them from you?”
“I have to be on a plane out of SeaTac at ten. An appointment in New York came out of the blue, and that’s when I realized I needed help. Can you come by my home around eight thirty?
I’m on the Hill.”
“Eight thirty will work.” So much for a leisurely birthday dinner with Jen, Luke and their pals. She could hear the conversation already over birthday cake. Her friends were all starting to sound like her ex.
“Good.” Sterling’s tone indicated their meeting was over. Kip took the bank statements she’d been given and stood up.
Tamara Sterling rose as well, and came around her desk to shake hands. Her touch was cool. “I think I’ve made the right decision.”
It was Kip’s turn to twitch her lips. “It’s an SFI motto—hire the best.”
“You’re not the most modest of people,” she said, but for the first time the smile seemed genuine.