Show Her The Money. Stephanie Feagan

Show Her The Money - Stephanie  Feagan


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to fuck a senator?”

      Oh-ho, so that’s how it was gonna be. “Just curious, Sparky, how does it feel to be a greedy bastard, commit fraud and ruin thousands of people’s lives?”

      Sparky took a threatening step closer, his nostrils flaring and his cheeks pink with either anger or too many of the martinis I could smell on his breath, which was hot on my face. “If you turn over that disk, you’ll be the one who ruins their lives.”

      “I have no choice. Even you can see that.”

      “We all have choices. You just seem to be inclined to make all the wrong ones.” His angular face formed into a dark frown. “Like sleeping with Santorelli.”

      “If you believe everything in the news, then you must believe that you and Lowell Jaworski set up a plan to defraud the state of Texas out of millions of dollars of past oil and gas overrides.”

      “You know that’s not true.”

      “Yeah, Sparky, just like I know it’s not true I sleep with a senator.” I caught his look of pure hatred before he schooled his features into mild dislike. I admit, it unnerved me and I decided I needed to leave. Immediately. “I have to go,” I said, stepping aside to move around him.

      He stepped aside at the same time, blocking my way.

      “Look, Sparky, you’re not going to intimidate me. No matter what you say or do, I’m handing that disk over to the finance committee.” With a firm grip on my nerves, I stepped aside again and made to walk out.

      Again, he blocked my way. Then he went one worse and grabbed my arm. “Not so fast, sister. I just want to hear you explain how it is you never caught any discrepancies last year, or the year before that.”

      “Get real,” I said, now thoroughly furious and disgusted. “You know I was promoted to senior manager in December, and this was my first year to head the Marvel audit. I didn’t have access to the memos and spreadsheets before this year.”

      “Do you seriously expect anyone to believe you? Don’t you get it? By squealing to the feds, you’re digging your own grave. They’ll throw you in jail same as the rest of us.”

      His hand on my arm tightened painfully and I flinched, wanting to kick him, knowing I couldn’t cause a scene. I cast about for some kind of a comeback, anything to make him let go of my arm. For once in my life, I was at a loss.

      While the COO and the refrigerator-size attorney mumbled something from behind him, Sparky took advantage of my muteness. He leaned closer. “Here’s a little advice, for old time’s sake. Don’t hand that disk over, or something very, very bad will happen to you.”

      Every hair on my head stood on end. I glanced down at his hand, still holding my arm in a bruising grip, and saw a white bandage. Mother of God! Was Sparky the Dog Doo Stalker? He didn’t seem the type, but he’d just threatened me, and his hand was wounded. Maybe from a gunshot?

      Shocked and tongue-tied, beyond freaked, I was about to cry out and get someone’s attention when I heard Ed say, “I suggest you let go of my client before something even worse happens to you, Mr. Sparks.”

      Looking as though he’d just awakened from a trance, Sparky’s eyes widened, he let go of my arm and stepped back. Jerking his head to his companions, he walked toward a table and they all took a seat, smiling and talking as though he hadn’t just been a major asshole.

      Ed nudged me and I walked outside, sucking in the dry, hot air. I was more shaken than I wanted to admit. “Ed, his hand was bandaged. I think he’s the guy who grabbed me at Mabel’s.”

      “I doubt it, Pink. The police think the guy was hit in the arm, and I happen to know, Sparks was in a meeting all morning. A lot of the Marvel execs are in town to go over their Permian Basin holdings.”

      “Does that mean the Dog Doo Stalker isn’t connected to Marvel?”

      “No, it just means I don’t think Sparks is your man.”

      “Then the guy’s still out there.”

      “True, but he’s got a bum arm now, so maybe it’ll keep him quiet for a while.”

      “Wonder what happened to Sparky’s hand?”

      “I’d like to think he closed it in a car door, or sliced it open on a meat cutter, or something equally painful.”

      “I still can’t get over how he acted, Ed.”

      “Just be careful, Pink. If you see him, or any of the others, don’t talk to them.”

      “But, Ed, I tried to walk away!”

      He stared at me with a worried frown. “Next time, try harder.”

      Mom was out for meetings all afternoon, so I spent the remainder of the day working on my spreadsheets of Shanks Resources’ bank statements. I found several more checks to Birds in Flight and spent some time on the phone and the Internet, looking for information, but came up empty.

      At five, I joined the cattle drive and left the office, headed for Mom’s to tell her about what happened at Mabel’s, and to drop the bomb that I’d leased an apartment. I dreaded it, but figured it was best to bite it and get it over with. Besides, I needed to get out to the Shankses’ yard as soon as night fell, which would be close to nine o’clock since it was late summer.

      Mom wasn’t home yet, so I took the opportunity to float in the pool. I’d been there half an hour when Harry showed up.

      “Hey, Harry,” I said as he came outside, “Mom need more Freon?”

      He looked at me and shook his head. “No. She said there’s a noise, or something, so I came to check it out.”

      Thinking it sure was late for an air-conditioner guy to be working, I said, “This must be a really busy time of year for you.”

      “Uh, yeah…yeah it is. Real busy. Been at it since seven this morning.” He stepped back, said he’d talk to Mom later and left.

      He’d looked sorta uncomfortable and I checked to see if I was coming out of my bathing suit, but I wasn’t. I wondered if Harry was casing the joint, but decided he wouldn’t have come out to say hello if that was his purpose.

      Mom finally came home and set to work making chicken and dumplings. She said she thought I could use some comfort food, which had the effect of making me feel even more guilty for renting an apartment and dissing her.

      I dropped a kiss on her cheek and inhaled deeply. Mom smells good, always. Don’t know what it is. Just Mom. “Thanks, Mom. You need some help?”

      “No, I’ve got it.” She slanted a look at me as I settled on a barstool on the opposite side of the kitchen island. “I hear you got a haircut today.”

      Yikes. She’d already heard about it. “Who told you?”

      “Ed. He was at a meeting I went to this afternoon. Are you okay?”

      “I’m okay.”

      While she stood there, all Mom-like and domestic, making dumplings, she casually said, “Let’s go over to old lady Bohannon’s tonight, break in and get the disk out of Mister Bob’s box.”

      It took me a minute to recover from my shock enough to speak. “Uh, Mom, that’s known as breaking and entering and can get us ten years in the Big House.”

      “Only if we get caught.”

      “You’re not serious.” She couldn’t be. Could she?

      She glanced up from the dough. “I’m dead serious. Let’s get the disk, get it to the boys at the SEC, and this maniac won’t have any reason to stalk you.”

      “It’s tempting, Mom, but too risky.”

      “Not as risky as a stalker who tried to haul you off in the middle of the day, from a crowded place.”


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