Cliff scratched his head. "What makes you say that?"
"Not one mistake in addition. Of course, today's technology makes that easier. However, this company is supposedly in a growth spurt and should be making money. I mean, this script-writing thing where you can also make a printout in your own handwriting is a winner. Yet, it doesn't show in the profits. Either they've got a big storehouse somewhere full of lots of unsold stock," he waved his hand over the desk, "or someone's fixing these books."
Tom listened intently as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "So you think there's something unusual here?"
"Yeah. This is not for the record. But, yeah. There's something strange going on here, but damned if I can spot it. Particularly this past year."
"For instance?" Tom asked.
"A big change in the ordering pattern. They ordered lots of stuff to put into their product, but I can't find the output. Yet, everything balanced. My brain tells me they're short about six hundred thousand dollars this year."
Tom tapped his foot, his mind working. "That would fit with what Bill Crane said."
John leaned back in his chair. "Who's Bill Crane?"
"A young college intern that Bud hired. The kid spotted this ABC Wafer Company. He told me he'd informed Mr. Nevers that fifty thousand a month was going out to that company. Which, by the way, coincides with that figure you just quoted. So how do you figure they've hid it?"
"Beats the hell out of me." He pointed to one side of the book then the other. "Probably within several companies; a few thousand dollars here and a few thousand there. All the books display the same numbers. It would require a hell of a lot of time to locate the discrepancies. Probably in the beginning they used that ABC Wafer name as a dummy company, but have since figured out a more sophisticated system." He pointed a finger at Tom. "But somewhere there are original records. And that's where you'll find that ABC Wafer Company. Some genius they have in that company has managed to change all the books and computers to read the same."
Tom scratched his side burn, then extended his hand. "Thanks, John, you've done a great job and we appreciate the many hours you've spent here today. If we run across the originals, you'll be the first one we'll call."
After John left, Tom looked at his partner and shook his head. Cliff let out a long sigh and took off his hat, running his fingers through his hair. "That damn back-up disk is the one we need."
Tom paced the room, stopped in front of the window and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ken Weber is the only person who had access to Bud's computer. I think we better have a talk with him."
Cliff slapped his thigh. "Fine. But what the hell are we going to say? That all the books matched? We'd look like fools. Pray tell where would Bud have kept a set of original records? He was obviously too smart to leave them on his computer, that is unless someone trashed them."
Tom nodded. "You're right. Sometimes they can still find stuff on a computer that has been trashed or erased. We may have to find someone who can do that. Keep your brain engaged over the weekend and if you come up with something let me know. I'm calling it a day."
Cliff trudged out of the office as Tom sat down at his desk. He decided to call Angie even though he didn't have any new news, but felt the necessity to keep in touch. When she answered, he detected a tinge of strain in her voice. "Everything okay?"
"Not really, but nothing I can't handle."
"Maybe you need a night out. How about having dinner with me?"
A slight hesitation, then her voice sounded more cheerful. "You know that's not a bad idea. I think I'd enjoy that. When will you pick me up?"
"Will an hour give you time?"
"Perfect. See you then."
Tom's spirits soared. He hoped she felt the same way.
When he got home, he immediately called for reservations at one of the nicer restaurants and lucked out due to a cancellation. He jumped in the shower, humming.
In exactly one hour, he knocked on Angie's door. His heart raced when she met him with sparkling eyes and a big smile.
"I'm really glad you called, Tom. I needed a break."
At the restaurant, before their dinner arrived, he noticed she grew quiet, her eyes darting around the room. "Something's bothering you. What is it?"
She exhaled loudly and slumped back in the chair. "I'm trying to decide whether to talk to you about the latest occurrences, but hate burdening you with my troubles. You have enough of your own."
He smiled slightly. "We're in this thing together. Maybe it will help with the investigation."
"That's possible," she said, shrugging. She sat forward and related Marty's confession about being Melinda's mother and how it had come about. When she finished, she let out a long sigh. "It doesn't seem possible this could have happened right under my nose."
Tom observed her relaxed disposition during the story and surmised she'd sorted out the upsetting news and accepted it. "You seem to be handling the problem. Is there anything I can do?"
She shook her head. "No. Just being my sounding board has helped."
Their meal arrived and after the waiter left, she looked at him and smiled. "Well, I've pretty well monopolized the whole conversation. So how's the investigation going? Any new leads?"
"I wish I had something concrete to tell you. Right now we're working on problems with the Nevers Company accounting books. Something fishy is going on within the company but the auditor can't find it. He feels that it's possible he's dealing with altered records. Whoever used the ABC Wafer Company in the beginning has since dropped that name and gotten more sophisticated in eluding the law."
"Is that the company Bill Crane discovered and told Bud about?"
"Yes."
"I wish I could tell you Bud kept records at home. But I've found nothing so far."
"He might have put them on a CD or a disk."
"I haven't gone through everything yet." She shook her head. "I get too emotional. But I'll check through the CDs. He has a bunch I stored in a box for the time being. I'll go through them again and examine each one carefully."
"Would you mind if I took a look?" Tom asked cautiously.
"Not at all. In fact, why don't you come over tonight after dinner and we'll sort through them," she said smiling. "I'd love your company."
The thought made his blood surge. "Great."
Later that evening, back at Angie's house, she and Tom sat on the floor with the box of CDs between them, taking turns sticking them into the computer and verifying the titles. After checking twenty-five, Angie stretched her arms above her head and complained of her eyes getting tired. Tom took the hint. "Why don't I take the rest home with me?"
"Better yet, why don't you just come back tomorrow afternoon? I can help you finish."
Guessing she didn't want the box out of her sight, Tom nodded. "Sounds good. But I don't want to interrupt your day."
"I've nothing planned. It would be perfect. I'll have Marty fix dinner for us here."
"You're sure it won't put you out?"
She grinned. "Positive."