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“You’re not calling the cops, are you?” Dylan asked.
I laughed as I hit speed-dial. “For three hundred? Please. No, I’m just-” I stopped when Nathan’s voicemail picked up. When the recording finished, I said, “Hey, it’s me. I got hung up at the theatre. It looks like this could take a few hours, but I’ll let you know when I leave. Let me know if you want to get together tomorrow night instead.”
After I’d hung up, I tossed my phone on the desk and looked at the papers in front of me.
The deeper we dug into the time cards and till summaries from the last two weeks, the more confused and frustrated I became. No one employee was on the clock on every single shift when money was missing. All of the till summaries and deposit slips were double-counted, initialed by two employees, and there was no pattern that I could see.
My phone rang as I pored over the time cards for the seven hundredth time. I knew from the ringtone that it was Nathan, but didn’t answer it. He was probably just calling to let me know whether or not he still wanted me to come over after work, so he’d leave a message. As much as I hated blowing him off, I didn’t want to lose my concentration as I sorted through this mess. The more I focused, the sooner I’d finish, and the sooner I could be with him.
The answer was here. Somewhere amidst all these names and numbers, something would tell me where the missing money had gone. We’d had thieves before. I knew the signs. It was in here somewhere, and I needed every bit of my concentration to find it.
As the evening wore on, guilt tugged at my gut even as I continued scouring paperwork. I really needed to call him back. I felt bad for ignoring him, no matter how irritated I was with this situation, so-
Something on a time card caught my eye, and a light suddenly came on in my head. I read it over a few times to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. I wasn’t.
“I’ll be damned,” I said.
Dylan looked up. “What? Did you find something?”
“Sneaky little shits,” I muttered. “Check this out.” I pulled out a time card and a till summary. The time card was for Lisa, one of the full-time employees, and her signature was on the till summary and deposit slip.
“You think it was Lisa?” he asked, stu
I shook my head and pointed to a correction on her time card. “She went home sick that day. On her next shift, she came to me and said she’d forgotten to clock out, so I took care of it for her.”
“Then how did she sign the deposit and summary?”
“She didn’t,” I said. “I have a feeling whoever did it put her signature on it.”
“Wouldn’t they have known she was gone for the night?”
“Not if the person who forged her signature was on the morning crew.” I looked over the schedules and signatures again. “And I think that’s our pattern.” I pointed to the schedule. “Dean and Max are the only ones on the schedule every single day that money was missing, but they weren’t always on the same shift.”
“And one of them was always closing the till and doing the deposit,” Dylan said. “You little bastards…”
We went over the papers a few more times to make sure we were right about the pattern. By the time we were done, there was no mistaking. Upon closer inspection, the forged signatures were so obvious I couldn’t believe we’d missed them. We had our thieves, and tomorrow we would be down two employees.
Satisfied that the problem was resolved, I gathered my jacket and cell phone and headed for the door. We locked up, set the alarm and stepped out into the night.
On my way out, I flipped my phone open and had my thumb on the speed-dial when I looked up and stopped in my tracks.
“Nathan,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled, but it seemed forced. Very forced. He shrugged and said, “Just didn’t want to wait to see you.” There was an edge to his voice. Something spoken, but unspoken. A subtext I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
“Have you been waiting long?” I asked.
Another shrug. “Not long. I figured you’d be getting out soon.”
I put my hands on his waist and kissed him lightly. For reasons I didn’t quite understand, I expected him to pull away from me, but he didn’t. He wasn’t terribly receptive to me, but he didn’t pull away.
“You okay?” I asked as I released him.
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He smiled, but it still seemed forced.
An uncomfortable silence lingered before I finally said, “So, should we get out of here?”
Something loosened in his shoulders and his expression seemed more genuine. “My place?”
“Sounds good. I drove in today, so I’ll follow you.”
Chapter Thirty-five
On the way to Nathan’s house, my stomach twisted into nervous knots. I replayed our conversation outside the theatre. Something wasn’t right. Something didn’t add up. Just like when I scoured the time cards and till summaries in the office, I knew the answer was right there in front of me, I just couldn’t see it for some reason.
He said he was there because he wanted to see me. Because he didn’t want to wait until I got to his place. He’d smiled when he said it, but something in his eyes suggested that there was more to it. Something he wasn’t saying.
And in spite of his insistence that he was there because he couldn’t wait to see me, he didn’t seem all that thrilled when he did see me.
The epiphany came to me so suddenly I jumped, my foot very nearly hitting the brake by accident.
The desire to see me sooner than later hadn’t driven him to The Epidauran that night.
It was suspicion.
“You son of a bitch,” I muttered, glaring at his taillights as we continued up the street toward his house. For all I’d done to convince him that I was faithful, for as much as I thought we’d put those damned trust issues behind us, he’d come to check up on me.
To catch me in the act.
Nathan pulled into his garage and I parked outside. Part of me wanted to call him out right then and there in the driveway, but I didn’t. We were going to discuss this. I just didn’t know how I should bring it up. Calmly ask about it? Let him have it?
At least take it inside. Don’t make a scene out here. I managed to avoid slamming the car door, then, grinding my teeth so hard they hurt, followed him into the house. Maybe feel him out, figure out what kind of mood he’s in, then bring it up. I chewed the inside of my cheek, knowing full well I was just making excuses to myself to avoid confrontation.
In the kitchen, he put his arm around my waist, but I recoiled, stepping out of his grasp.
He stared at me, stu
“Why were you there tonight?” I growled.
His lips parted in surprise. “I, I told you,” he said. “I wanted to see you.”
“I gathered that,” I said. “But I’m wondering if that’s the whole story.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Were you there because you wanted to see me?” I asked. “Or because you wanted to see if I was telling the truth about why I bailed on you tonight?”
He set his jaw, leaning against the kitchen counter and folding his arms across his chest. “Now who’s the suspicious one?”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You are,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “And for as much as you’ve complained about me not trusting-”
“If you’re coming by the theatre to make sure I’m telling the truth, I think that-”
“I just told you I wasn’t doing that.”
“Then why did you look so fucking pissed off when I came out tonight?” I snarled.
“I-” He stopped, his breath catching.
“Did you think I was lying to you?” I asked, not sure if I was more hurt or angry.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, you weren’t answering your phone, you-”
“I was working.”
He glared at me. “That’s never stopped you from picking up before.”