Good Woman Blues (34 page)

“So much for replacing office furniture,” she
said to herself. Tears hurried to the surface and Darlene pushed
them back.

Doing without new desks, tables and chairs
was the least of her worries. They already cut back on hours,
something she’d swore wouldn’t happen. Facing the small town
judgments took an even greater toll day to day. Still Darlene
refused to feel sorry for herself. She worried about the people
served by her programs.

“Hi,” Brandon said. He stood in the door as
though debating whether or not to enter.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” Darlene
stared at him in surprise.

“LaTrice said she was working late. I came by
to pick her up.” He came in.

“Working late? I don’t see why she would be.”
Darlene frowned and glanced at her wall clock. “She gets off at
three.”

“I don’t know. Look, mama, about some of the
stuff that went down between us—”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. Guess I’m
having a hard time accepting you’re a man now.” Darlene smiled at
him with love. He had grown into a tall, striking man. No wonder
women of all ages went after him.

“Thanks for helping us out. LaTrice really
does appreciate your giving her this job.” Brandon sat down. He
seemed to have more on his mind.

“She’s an adult, Brandon. Let her speak for
herself.” Darlene regretted her words the second they were out.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to criticize her.”

“It’s okay.” Brandon let out a slow breath.
“Things don’t always turn out the way you plan sometimes.” Darlene
decided to let him take the lead. “Sometimes.”

“I was thinking maybe community college isn’t
such a bad idea. Jobs are so hard to find.” Brandon stared down at
the floor.

Her spirits soared, but Darlene kept her
expression neutral. Brandon would only follow through if he
believed going was his idea. ‘True.”

“LaTrice is saying I should get a job at that
cement plant, but I don’t know.” Brandon looked at her.

“That’s hard dirty work. Your cousin is
having skin problems from the cement.” Darlene forced herself to
shut up.

“Yeah. I talked to Shawn. He’s sick of the
place.” Brandon sighed.

“At least at the college you can take courses
in business. That way you could be a supervisor or foreman. Maybe
move up even more.” Darlene smiled at the first sliver of hope
she’d had in weeks.

“Yeah. Anyway, enough about me. Found that
money?”

Darlene’s bright mood clouded over as she
shook her head. “Twenty thousand to be exact. Whoever did it was
slick. Someone stole checks from the middle of a checkbook we
hadn’t used yet. They bought a lot of merchandise from vendors we
usually do business with, and then returned some of it for cash.
Probably pawned the rest.”

“They’ll catch whoever did it soon. Don’t
worry.”

“Once I call the Sheriff’s Office they can
investigate. Hopefully they can get a description of the thief,”
Darlene replied. She stared at the figures again.

“Right, right.” Brandon shifted in his seat
again and twisted his large hands together.

“Is everything all right, baby?” Darlene’s
heart turned over to see him in distress. She knew her child.
Brandon wanted to confide in her, but his male pride held him
back.

“I don’t know, Mama. You’ve got enough to
deal with.” Brandon seemed to shrug off his gloom. He glanced at
her with a smile. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” Darlene knew he’d tell her if
she gave him space. Just then the door pushed open, and LaTrice
walked in.

“I’m out here waiting in the car, Brandon.
You was supposed to just be a minute.” LaTrice smacked gum around
her sentences.

“Let’s go then. See ya, Mama.” Brandon
glanced at Darlene, and she could see the unhappy little boy in his
eyes.

“Bye. I’ll walk y’all out.” Darlene forced
herself to smile at LaTrice. “Tomorrow probably won’t be so
wild.”“I sure hope not, Miz Darlene. Talk to Miz Carmel for me,
will ya? I can’t stand being in that kitchen all day.”

Darlene felt her temper turning red-hot. She
counted to ten before she answered. “Carmel is doing two jobs with
the trouble we’re having. Try to be patient.”

“Yeah, right.” LaTrice smacked her
dissatisfaction with Darlene’s reply.

“Right.” Darlene felt a thudding pain begin
at the base of her neck. They went to the parking lot to Brandon’s
beat-up old car.

Brandon glanced at her with a frown. “Mama,
you okay? What’s up?”

“It’s just a bad headache. I’m okay,” Darlene
said quickly. She looked at his live-in girlfriend.

“Guess I’ll see ya tomorrow.” LaTrice got in
the car.

Before Darlene could answer, she turned
around to the backseat. Two small boys were hitting each other. A
little girl wailed that she wanted to sit in the front. An infant
girl started crying in sympathy. “Y’all shut the hell up.”

“Stop all that noise out here, girl. And quit
screaming at little Keioni. She’s just a baby,” Brandon snapped at
LaTrice.

“Uh-huh. You got to help me get these kids
bathed later on.”

Darlene wanted to say something, but she kept
silent and watched them drive away. The trials of her oldest child
had been another worry. Still she let go. He had to learn his own
hard-life lessons like everyone else. Exactly the way Darlene was
learning her own once again.

Chapter 20

Erikka spent three days working overtime. The
few times Roz had called her up, her voice had seemed so chirpy it
was unnerving. Still, she’d become immersed in her own routine of
rising early and staying up late. She tried to tell herself this
was a good thing. Though he said nothing, Erikka could almost hear
the judgment in Gabriel’s voice when they talked. More than once
Erikka found herself being defensive about her schedule of work,
nights out with friends, and more work. She was not drinking, not
partying the way her old crowd still did, and not taking sleeping
pills. No matter what she tried Erikka somehow ended up
channel-surfing at two in the morning. She knew the entire
late-night cable television lineup.

Nadine had been a particular pain in the ass
for the past few days. The feds and the state attorney general were
asking questions about Layton, Inc. Nadine had Erikka working into
the night helping her print out all kinds of reports. Once they had
finished Nadine seemed in a bad mood every day. Everyone avoided
Erikka, even the other partners. A bad vibe flowed through the
hallways of Lewis, Calder and Brinkhaus. People kept their doors
closed. No one was talking even if they knew what was going down.
Erikka kept so busy putting out fires that she had little time to
speculate. No matter. Erikka left the building and took a deep
breath out on the sidewalk. She waved at the security person in the
parking lot as she drove away. Not even crazy New Orleans rush hour
made her regret leaving on time. She sighed again when she got to
Hope’s apartment. Though she loved Hope, Erikka looked forward to
having her own place. The renovations on her loft had been slowed
by last-minute construction problems. Erikka unlocked the door,
almost dizzy with relief to close it behind her. Minutes later she
was in a warm shower. Lavender shower gel helped her unwind. By the
time Hope made it in, Erikka had her feet up and was reading the
newspaper.

“The good news is that this day is over.”
Hope kicked off her leather pumps.

“The bad news is we do it again tomorrow,”
Erikka shot back, without looking up from the pages she turned.

“I refuse to adopt that negativity. A new
sunrise means hope for a better day. Get it?” Hope jabbed a finger
in Erikka’s arm as she went by.

“Your brilliance dazzles,” Erikka said in a
dry tone. “Your turn to cook, and don’t even try to whine your way
out of it,” she added quickly, before Hope could start. Pans
clanked as she prepared their supper. “What’s new at your salt
mine?”

“Nothing but the same. Any change would break
up the monotony.” Erikka didn’t mean it. She appreciated the fast
pace, even the tension in the air.

When the door chimes trilled, Hope yelled,
“You get it. I’m up to my elbows in ground beef.”

“Please say you’re kidding,” Erikka yelled
back. She swung open the door to find Terri standing outside. “Come
on in. You get to share Hope’s cooking with me.”

“I can’t stay,” Terri said quickly.

“Coward,” Erikka joked and waved her
inside.

“Erikka, have you seen this week’s issue of
New Orleans Business?” Terri held up a copy of the magazine. The
Biz, as it was called, carried hard news and hot rumors.

“Girl, please. I’ve got three new clients, a
performance audit report due, and—” Erikka stopped when Terri
shoved the paper in her face.

“Better look,” Terri clipped. When Erikka
took the weekly from her she dropped her purse onto a chair.

Erikka read the headline. “I can’t believe
this. CEO Escapes SEC Scrutiny.”

“Yep, Layton CEO Transome is missing in
action. Gone, along with his lovely former-lingerie-model mistress.
Just in time to dodge getting splattered by the shit hitting the
fan.” Terri kicked the door shut.

As Erikka read past the headline her heart
thumped harder. ‘Ten million missing from the pension fund, dummy
companies used to hide losses. Damn.”

“Hey, Terri, you’re just in time to eat my
signature dish, ground cow and noodles in a pan,” Hope called from
the kitchen. She looked into the living room through the opening
above a bar separating the two rooms.

“What did you know and when did you know it?”
Terri said to Erikka, without answering Hope.

“Oh God.” Erikka sank onto the sofa still
reading.

“I’m hoping like hell that’s an ‘I didn’t
know’ oh God. Not an ‘I didn’t think it was all that illegal’ oh
God.” Terri raised one shapely auburn brow.

“Nadine didn’t breathe a word about this. Not
even after I reminded her about Enron and the Anderson accounting
scandals.” Erikka flashed back to the questionable losses and her
doubts about offshore companies.

“What exactly did she say?” Terri perched on
the broad arm of a sofa chair.

“That the charges weren’t illegal yet.” Still
holding it, Erikka let the paper drop into her lap. “She’s right.
Congress has trouble understanding all the twists and turns that
creative accounting can take. They haven’t moved fast enough to
pass new laws.”

“Oh yeah? Well, there are a lot of laws that
have been on the books for years. Good old-fashioned embezzlement
statutes. Then there’s wire fraud, conspiracy, obstruction of
justice.” Terri ticked off the crimes on her fingers. “Bottom line
is if the money ain’t yours, then you don’t get to keep it.”

Hope left the kitchen and joined them. “I’m
in there sweating over a hot stove for you two and— Something
wrong?” She looked from Erikka to Terri.

“Not if this is a bad dream,” Erikka said.
She handed the magazine to her.

“I think you need a good attorney.” Terri
took a note pad from her small navy blue leather purse. “Better
start now.” For the next thirty minutes Terri pitched questions at
Erikka. At first she mostly asked for information. After fifteen
minutes Terri began to sound like a prosecutor. Erikka felt
perspiration trickle down her back at one point. Each time Terri
paused with a slight frown, Erikka’s stomach tightened.

“Look, I’ve got to understand your accounting
procedures as well as you do. Call in sick tomorrow. Come to my
office at nine o’clock.” Terri gave Erikka a business card with
elegant gold lettering.

“Okay. Wait, I have a meeting at nine with
Nadine on an audit and a few other things. What about after lunch?”
Erikka looked at the card. Terri’s name was followed by an
impressive list of letters.

“Erikka, your meeting is going to be on one
topic only, Layton, Inc. Nadine is not surprised by these
developments,” Terri said briskly.

“She’ll know something is up if I call in,”
Erikka said, shaking her head to unscramble the jumble of thoughts
crowding it. “No telling what they’ll do to records while I’m
gone.”

“Good point.” Terri paced for a few
minutes.

Hope had stood by, watching them with a
puzzled scowl. “Somebody hand me a clue, please,” she said
finally.

“If Layton execs go down, my career could go
down with ’em. The state CPA board might suspend me. Or worst stuff
could happen. Clear enough?” Erikka took the paper back from
her.

Hope blinked rapidly as the big picture sank
in. “Uh- oh.”

“Erikka acted as their consultant. If the DA
thinks she helped them figure out a way to cook the numbers, which
led to fraud, that’s called criminal conspiracy. After that big
Stanford Securities case in Texas I think our Attorney General
wants his own big white-collar bust. He’s ready to pounce on even
any whiff of wrongdoing connected to Layton. Speaking of stink,
what is that smell?” Terri grimaced as she sniffed the air.

“The food.” Hope scurried back to the
kitchen.

“Nadine is probably working late. She was at
the office when I left.” Erikka stood.

“We could go by there,” Terri offered.

Erikka glanced at her wristwatch. “She’s had
over an hour to do damage. She could make it seem like I did all of
the dirty work that helped Transome rob Layton, Inc. I’ll go in
early tomorrow, search for clues, and then meet you after
lunch.”

“Good. Now you’re thinking like a lawyer.
Lord help you.” Terri’s green eyes twinkled.

“I’d consider that an insult except being an
accountant is just as rough these days,” Erikka tossed back.

Terri retrieved her PDA from the purse. She
tapped the screen with a tiny pointer. “I can move a one-thirty
appointment.”

“I’ve got one, too. My instincts are telling
me that I’d better watch my back, front, and sides.”